Fortuna
by these-dreams-go-on
Summary: Klaroline retold in Ancient Rome. Caroline is a general serving in the army, Klaus is the Emperor's son and heir, her childhood friend who became very handsome in her absence and seems determined to keep her by his side. Klaroline, Kalijah.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- Disclaimer, I own nothing associated with the Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

Caroline loved the ocean.

She loved swimming beneath the rolling waves and burying her toes in the sand before floating back up to break the surface and take in gasping lungful's of life giving air.

The taste of salt in her mouth, the sensation of Neptune kissing her as it dried on her lips.

She leans over the railing now, gazing down yearningly as a pack of dolphins' swim beside the ship, wishing that she could jump overboard and cool her skin in the refreshingly chilled water.

However, they're still half a day from land and the ship is high enough that she would risk knocking the air out of herself if she jumped overboard.

After all, it was not any old ship that she was aboard but the Royal Ship of Egypt.

The Pharaoh Cleopatra Hekaterine, known by her friends as Katherine, had insisted that the only way Caroline would be leaving Egyptian shores would be on the royal ship.

Well, in truth, the pharaoh wouldn't have given a damn if Caroline had been forced to swim from Alexandria to Rome, but the Roman diplomat that she had been escorting?

Katherine had made it clear that if any harm came to him, Caroline would find her heart being weighed against a feather by the Egyptian Goddess Maat.

She senses his presence now and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, not because of the man himself, she considered him a good friend, but because of what he carried wrapped around his arm.

An asp.

The symbol of Pharaoh's dynasty and not any old snake, this one was magic and obeyed the orders of the pharaoh, which Caroline had discovered personally when the woman had thought her a rival for her lover and sent the snake to bite her.

Fortunately, the High Priestess of Isis had come to her aid, saving her and convincing the pharaoh to spare her life, especially after she was convinced that Caroline had no designs on the Roman diplomat.

On Elijah.

Stepson to the Emperor Ansel and half-brother to the heir, Niklaus. Member of the First Family of Rome who had been diplomat to Mitanni, sent to set up trade routes when he had been betrayed and an attempt made on his life. He had escaped in a fishing boat, but gravely injured, he had lost consciousness and the boat had travelled on the waves and will of the gods until his boat had come ashore in Thebes, on the west bank before the Malkata palace where the Pharaoh had spied him from her bedroom.

Details after that were scarce, but by the time word had got back to Rome and Caroline had been dispatched from Mauretania to Egypt with her squadron, she had arrived to find that Elijah had become the Pharaoh's lover, then consort.

Caroline hadn't seen Elijah since they were children, nearly two decades ago and, as he'd been five years older than her, they had never played together but she remembered him as a sensible, intelligent and somewhat boring man.

So how he could have allowed himself to be seduced by the leader of a nation barely allied with Rome. How he could have allowed himself to make a marriage that could be seen as a threat to his half-brother and the Emperor himself, was beyond her.

She knew nothing of love.

She had been born into a family befriended and beloved by the Emperor of Rome but they had been revealed as traitors and those that hadn't been executed had been forced to commit suicide. Caroline had been spared because the Emperor had thought of her as his own daughter and upon her own request, had been recruited into the army. To become a soldier, as her father before her and his father before him. The only Roman soldier to be female, but her father had been loved by the army so she had been raised well and treated as an equal of any man.

Though she had not set foot in Rome in fifteen years.

Elijah stands beside her and she finds his presence soothing.

"Are you glad to go back home?" she asks him awkwardly and he shrugs,

"I will be glad to see my family, and to seek retribution against my enemies," he grins at her with good-humour and she responds with a smile of her own,

"But I shall wait breathlessly for word from my wife."

She raises an eyebrow, "You think that the Emperor will let you keep your 'wife'?" she questions and he shrugs,

"I don't think that Katherine shall allow us to be divorced without her consent and I would fear for any woman whom I sought to marry afterwards."

He lifts his index finger and strokes the head of the snake, cooing to the creature as if it were a pet.

She thinks he has made a grave mistake and hopes that he shan't be forced to climb the Gemonian stairs. She remembered him from her childhood, of course, five years older than her, he had been too busy with his studies to be interested in a little girl such as she, but he had smiled as she and Niklaus had run around the garden and had always been willing to escort them to the market to purchase sweets.

She wishes, as she had done so many times throughout the years, that her family was not accursed with the blood of treachery, that their name was not spat upon by those loyal to the Emperor and erased from history so that she might offer him some protection from his enemies. Those who would surely wish to see him punished for daring to marry, not only without his step-father's permission but to such a woman who would make him consort to Egypt.

Her worry is shown on her face and Elijah reaches over to grip her wrist in his hand,

"Don't be afraid for me," he assures her, "Niklaus will plead for my life and even if he does not, Rebekah shall and the Emperor adores her like his own child."

She considers this, "Did you think of this when you wed the Pharaoh?"

He glances down with a self-depreciating smile, "I was not thinking at all beyond the desire to take her back to bed."

Caroline blushes and clears her throat, looking away as the asp hisses as if it is laughing at her.

"We should be landing soon, and in Rome by nightfall." She gives as answer.

* * *

The sun has only just begun to set when they enter the streets of Rome, cautiously, worriedly, in covered litters.

A messenger had met them at the docks and told them that Elijah was expected at the Emperor's home, to be welcomed privately.

Caroline's blood had chilled when she heard that.

Her father had once been summoned the exact same way and she had never seen him again until he had mounted the stairs.

"I shall come with you." She had sworn and the look in her eyes had warned Elijah that she would brook no refusal.

She had stripped herself of her uniform, feeling naked without it and her sword but to enter the Emperor's house dressed as a general would surely risk making a statement, a perceived threat.

Her second-in-command and friend, Lorenzo comes into her cabin,

"Wear the blue tunic," he advised her, "The one the same colour of your eyes."

She accepts his advice without verbal question but raises an eyebrow as she slips the linen over her body and he comes forward to connect the garment with a fibulae of silver. "With the green palla," he continues, rummaging through her chest for the one palla she owned, "And a simple braid."

She frowns and crosses her arms, "Is there a reason you have become my handmaid?"

He manages only a tiny, pained grin, "You are going before the man your family betrayed not even two decades ago, I would rather I not wake up tomorrow having found myself promoted."

She shudders at the thought, and reaches for her mother's token of Neptune, the god of their family.

* * *

She dares not look through the curtains as they climb the Palatine Hill, instead playing with the cushion underneath her fingers, pulling at a loose thread until the litter is lowered.

She steps out onto the street and sees that it is stained red with the setting sun.

By the Gods, she hoped it was not a sign of things to come.

Elijah stepped out of his litter, his thumb on the head of the asp that was now curled around his neck, feigning sleep.

She stands beside him and looks up at the deceptively modest palace of the Emperor, the exterior was no different from any of the other buildings on the Hill, except perhaps, that it was a good deal plainer.

It had long been a trick of the Imperial family to feign simplicity and modesty for their façade, but Caroline had seen the interior of the palace, the boldly coloured frescoes and murals.

She swallows and follows Elijah inside the palace, to where a servant waits to lead them to the atrium.

Where it seems half of Rome awaits them.

Her eyes land first on the Emperor, not the most splendidly dressed man there but the most striking and captivating for his presence.

When she'd been a little girl, she'd been half in love with him, though he was not overly handsome. Now, he had aged but still carried himself well, his hair which had once been black was now entirely grey and his eyes were still as piercing as ever.

He greets their arrival silently but holds out a hand for Elijah, who steps forward and bows,

"Step-father," he murmurs, "It is good to see you again."

The Emperor opens his mouth but suddenly steps back quickly in alarm and Caroline, suspecting threat hurries forward only to see that Elijah's asp had awoken and raised its head, gazing at the first man of Rome curiously, tilting its head as it considered him.

"Did you bring an assassin into my house, Elijah?" the Emperor asked coldly and Caroline shivered as one of the Emperor's men moved closer to him, but Elijah recovered quickly,

"No, step-father, only a pet from the Pharaoh."

The Emperor hums in obvious disapproval, and his eyes flicker to Caroline, "A pet for her new pet?"

Before she can even think to stop herself or remember her training in the army, Caroline let out a little laugh, covering her mouth in horror when she realised what she'd done.

The Emperor stares at her with bewilderment before a smile breaks across his face like the sun on a cloudy day, "Ah, I remember that laugh, it used to grace these rooms with happiness. Caroline, my daughter!"

He opens his arms out wide and Caroline hesitates momentarily before easing herself forward, stepping into the space and starting as he embraces her, squeezing her tight.

Around them, she can hear people whispering, recalling her name and the name of her father.

"Come Niklaus," The Emperor calls as he releases her, "Come welcome your sister home!"

A man steps forward and now it is Caroline's turn to be surprised.

In her mind, Niklaus had remained unchanged since their childhood. A short, chubby boy with a pig nose and dirt in his messy blonde hair.

So who was this man standing before her?

He was tall, lean muscle, golden curls, eyes as blue as the sky and lips as pink as the sunset.

He was the image of Apollo and when he holds out his hands, she worries that when she places hers in his palms that his touch shall burn.

And it does but it is far from painful.

"Caroline?"

He is as confused as she.

"Nik?"

The Emperor laughs loudly, "Truly? You have been too long gone from Rome that my son can no longer recognise his old playmate."

He claps his hands, "Come, let's eat!"

He leads them into the triclinium, taking the place of honour and gesturing for his son to recline beside him, Caroline ended up next to Elijah and two women, one barely more than a girl who wears a short tunic and regards her with open curiosity, "You're the traitor's daughter, Caroline?"

The matron hisses, "Rebekah! Manners."

Caroline lowers her head for a moment before raising it with a smile, "William was my father, I left Rome before you were born, but I remember your mother, she was quite beautiful."

Rebekah pouts as the barb hits home.

Esther had been the wife of one of Ansel's most loyal senators before she had become Ansel's lover, bearing him Niklaus before going back to her husband who had suddenly found himself sent on missions across the Empire and returning home only long enough to impregnate his wife and then leave again.

It was known that Niklaus was Ansel's son, but the parentage of the next three children was in question.

Caroline is drawn into conversation with the matron, who batters her with question upon question about army life and it was not until hours later after the secundae mensae, when people began to lift themselves off the couch that she could flee to the veranda and have a moment to think.

She was staring out at the garden where she had played as a child, the fountain where she had splashed, the plum trees that she had climbed and fed from, when she hears a footfall behind her.

"How many times did you use to push me down in this dirt?" Niklaus asks, laughter bubbling on his lips and she answers with her own chuckle,

"More times than I should have considering your future." She admits but he shakes his head,

"What was it you used to say, ah yes, 'The Emperor's son is not the Emperor'"

He stands there with his hands clasped behind his back and she looks over her shoulder to drink in his image, he regards her with equal curiosity,

"Strange," he murmured, "I always imagined that when you returned that you would resemble the wild Amazons of legend."

She drops her gaze, "Given my name, I didn't think it was wise to come into your father's home wearing a sword."

He grimaces, "Still, I am glad you came, you provided my father with means of distraction, the senators are now focused on your return rather than my brother's."

She smirked, "I figured that was why he welcomed me with open arms."

"Not for that reason alone," Niklaus hurries to assure her, "He is glad you've come back, he always asked after you and prayed to the gods that you would be kept safe."

There would be an appropriate, polite response to this information but Caroline gives a genuine smile of happiness at the thought that all these years, there had been someone praying for her.

There is movement within the palace, people are taking their leave and she sees Elijah saying good-bye to the Emperor, the man keeping a good distance from the asp.

"Where are you staying?" Niklaus asks, taking her arm as she begins to move inside,

"Your brother has invited me to stay with him," she explains and his face falls,

"Although I will gladly find another place tomorrow," she continues hastily,

"I do not trust that asp not to poison me in my sleep."

He chuckles, "Will you come to the games tomorrow?" he asks and she smiles,

"Gladly."

* * *

A/N- In case there was confusion, Klaus and Caroline aren't actual siblings, the Emperor just refers to her as a daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Here we go. Let me know what you think, I've never written a historical Klaroline that requires actual research before and it takes time and effort, so let me know if there is room for improvement.

* * *

Used as she was to sleeping on camp beds, surrounded by her men and sometimes in open fields with only her cloak as cover, Caroline found the sleeping couch in Elijah's house rather too soft and luxurious to pass the night comfortably.

She gave up early in the morning and instead rummaged through her chest that Enzo had had sent over from the ship.

Having spent her life as a soldier, she had very few personal possessions and as a woman in the army, had even fewer feminine clothes. She hadn't wanted fellow soldiers to look at her and see a girl to be seduced or ravaged. And surprisingly, very few had tried.

Her fighting skills aside, she was certain that the commanding officers she had trained and served under had had something to do with that, and Enzo had always been willing to warn anyone who was foolhardy enough to ignore them.

Not that he needed to physically defend her honor, but he considered it a kindness to warn his fellow men that Caroline could throw a dagger better than anyone he'd seen before.

She smiles as she takes her dagger, one she'd claimed in her first battle, and slips it under the folds of her yellow stola, into her tunic, in the scabbard on her thigh.

Feeling more properly clothed now, she opens the door to her room and slides silently through the villa, peeking into rooms curiously until she finds Elijah's study.

And observing it, she can see why the Pharaoh whose lands contained the famed Library of Alexandria had been able to seduce this man so easily.

An entire wall consists of shelves filled with scrolls, a fresco of the heavens has been painted onto another and the sleep couch and the candle holder in the corner made Caroline suspect that Elijah often read deep into the night.

She looks at his desk and the multitude of parchment scattered across it.

It reminded her of the Emperor's own study.

How often had she and her father climbed the Palatine and entered the villa, walked past the petitioners and into the Emperor's study where the two men would embrace and sit down to talk while she was sent to play with Niklaus?

It seemed like every day of her childhood had been spent going first into the study and then into the garden until the day when she'd seen her father climb the steps and everything had just stopped.

No more playing.

No more laughter.

No more family.

She shudders and clutches at the talisman around her neck before she backs out of the room and flags down one of the slaves, having them bring her food to break her fast.

The damn asp slithers out as the slaves brings the bread, dates and honey and the poor man nearly shrieks as it rears its head and looks up at Caroline,

"I don't care whose snake you are," she warns it, "I see a hint of fang and I will _nail_ you to the wall."

"Caroline, please," Elijah's civilized voice calls softly as he walks into the room, "I am sure the creature was simply curious."

He lies down on the couch and puts his hand on the ground, letting the asp climb up his arm and settle around his bicep.

Caroline wants to make several suggestions about the asp and its curiosity but she is Elijah's guest and it would be rude, so instead she makes more pleasant conversation,

"Will you be attending the games today?" she asks and he shrugs,

"Most likely," he sighs, with a longing glance to his study, "But there is a temple to Isis in Rome, I shall be going there first to meet with the priestess, no doubt she will carry messages from Katherine to myself."

Caroline inhaled sharply through her teeth, "Is that a good idea?" she asks cautiously,

"To send your letters so secretly? Is it not better to send them by regular messenger, where anyone and everyone can read them?"

He glances at her curiously, "Most definitely," he allows, "And I shall do so, but the messages I speak of in this instance cannot be written in ink but with fire and powders from Asia minor."

She shivers in spite of the warm day and leans back, "You mean magic?"

He nods, "Magic. I shall write to my wife, swearing my eternal devotion and speak it to her daily."

He pops a date in his mouth and grins, "I am the consort of Egypt but truly, I am no conspirator and plan no evil, I wish only for my wife and for all the secrets of the universe to be revealed to me."

She chuckles and sits up to wash her hands,

"What about you?" he asks as she stands, "What do you wish for, young Caroline?"

She shrugs, "Victory."

* * *

The streets were packed with people pushing and shoving against one another, shouting, plying their trades, most of them trying to get somewhere quickly.

Just like her.

She isn't used to the push of the citizens trying to reach their destination, it is nothing like the ordered chaos of an army advancing in battle, where one can let themselves be carried forward, instead everyone seemed to be headed in a different direction.

Fortunately, Caroline seemed to pick the stream that was headed to the Colosseum.

The magnificent structure, she stands for a moment in admiration as she listens to various people gossip about the events planned today.

Was it to be flooded for an epic sea battle?

Was there one of every creature gathered from around the world, to be released at once to fight to the death?

Was the most famous of gladiators, Malachi, to fight today?

She is smiling in the midst of this confusion, her head turning one hundred different directions to observe the citizens pushing and rushing to gain seats when a slave comes forward and taps her arm,

"Legate, this way please," he holds out an arm, "I was asked to take you to the Emperor."

She follows him up the steps into the Imperial Podium, where a crowd is already bustling about, senators and women are chatting and laughing as they drink wine and place bets.

Ansel is leaning against the side of the podium, in discussion with a man but he nods to her, acknowledging her arrival and jerks his head to the side, she follows the direction and sees Niklaus on the steps, in deep conversation with an African prince that she'd heard was in Rome to set up trade routes.

She smilingly steps towards him when a beautiful woman steps in her path.

Her hair is a fiery red and her face resembles a sculpture, "Are you Caroline?" she asks eagerly, holding out her arms and Caroline's smile doesn't falter.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Genevieve," she introduces herself, "Wife of the Senator Tristan, and the ladies and I are ever so excited to meet you."

"Oh,"

She looks over her shoulder and sees that the matrons and daughters of Rome are unabashedly watching them both and she voices her confusion, "Why?"

Genevieve giggles, "So you can tell us about the Queen of Egypt of course!"

The woman takes her arm and forcibly steers her into the crowd of women,

"You must tell us everything about her! Half the mothers of Rome have been trying to marry their daughters to Elijah for years without luck and now, tell us, is she so very beautiful?"

"I heard her hair is the very color of gold." One woman says eagerly,

"I was told that her breasts are as big as lettuces." Offers another,

She had been lured into an ambush.

But one that was unlikely to be fatal.

She clasps her hands, purses her lips and thinks, "Her hair isn't golden, it's brown and her eyes are the same color, her figure is fine but a little thin…" she pauses and bites her lower lip,

"The Pharaoh is beautiful but it's more than that, the very way she holds herself, the way she speaks, her wit and her charm are what enthral men."

"Just men?" Genevieve asks, her tone laden with mischief and another matron shrieks in scandalized delight and smacks her arm,

"Is it true that she practices magic?" one of the daughters asks excitedly and Caroline shrugs,

"Her priestesses do and perhaps she does as well but I never saw her perform any magic while I was there."

"And what about her baths?" Genevieve asks but they are interrupted,

"Excuse me," Niklaus appears at Caroline's shoulder and she turns her head to look at him,

"Caroline, the games are about to start, we should all take our seats."

She almost breathes a sigh of relief, graciously following Niklaus to where Elijah was already sitting on a bench near Ansel and they settled in,

"Thank-you," she laughs, "If I'd had to try and explain the Pharaoh's bathing habits I would never have got away from those women."

He grins, "Perhaps you could tell me what's so fascinating about them?"

"She shall do nothing of the sort." Elijah counters, crossly,

"My wife's bathing habits are perfectly suitable for a woman of her position and not something to be discussed all over Rome!"

Caroline disagreed with part of that statement but chooses to remain silent, focusing instead on the arena before her.

"What shall be first?" she asks and Niklaus leans forward with her, their shoulders touching and both of them acknowledge the contact but otherwise ignore it.

"The chariot race."

* * *

Hours later, when the sand of the arena was covered in the blood and sweat of gladiators and ferocious animals, the last of whom had been triumphant and was now being dragged out so the next game could begin, Caroline leans back and laughs at a witty jest made by Elijah, her voice raspy from the cheering and shouting of the day.

The sun is warm, almost hot upon their heads and necks but she has barely noticed, the day has been spent placing bets with Niklaus, drinking wine and watching the various entertainments.

She takes another cup of wine and smirks when she turns to Elijah and sees how valiantly he was trying to fight his boredom.

Trying and failing.

People were milling about in the podium, coming and going, paying their respects to the Emperor and to his son, the area was crowded and nobody would notice one man leaving.

She points this out to Elijah who looks around, as if to confirm her theory before slowly climbing to his feet,

"Will you tell the Emperor?" he requests and she nods, looking down into the arena and judging that nothing interesting was about to happen, so she stands and makes her way to Ansel.

As she does, she passes Niklaus and notices something strange.

Something in the corner of her eye that she can't quite place or ignore and she falters in her step, pausing to look and try and figure out what it was that had apprehension crawling up her back.

Then she sees it.

" _Niklaus, down!_ " she cries as she forces her way through the crowd, knocking people aside as she makes her way towards him.

He has heard her cry and realizes that something is wrong, beginning to look around even as he's crouching.

He's not moving fast enough but it doesn't matter. Caroline has her dagger in her hand and throws it, sending it cutting through the air before it lodges itself in his throat.

The throat of the slave.

Or the man dressed as one anyway.

He stumbles backward as people begin to shout and there's a clatter as the dagger he himself was holding falls to the floor.

The dagger with which he'd intended to kill the Emperor's son.

The Praetorian guard move in to protect the Emperor and Caroline goes to Niklaus, to stand by his side and retrieve her dagger when her arm is grabbed and she is yanked backwards by a senator.

" _Traitor!_ " he shouts above the furore, "This woman just attempted to kill a member of the royal family!"

Caroline shakes her head and blinks in confusion, "What?! I just saved Niklaus' life!"

The man leans his face close to hers and screams, "I saw you throw that dagger, we all saw you throw that dagger! You threw it at the Emperor's own son."

She scoffs in disgust and looks to the crowd for help, for support, but she sees them looking to the slave and then back to her. That man was dead, she was very much alive and very much her father's daughter. She could see the wheels turning in their heads.

Traitor.

Traitor.

 _To the Steps!_

A voice cries out, one that is firm in its resolve and brooks no argument.

"Had Caroline thrown that dagger at the Emperor's son, he would be dead right now," he says, hidden by the crowd but they slowly part to make way for him, to see him as he speaks,

"I have seen her throw that dagger more times than I can count and she has never yet missed her mark, ergo, she was not aiming for the Emperor's son, but his would-be assassin."

Alaric bends down and pulls her dagger from the man's throat, wiping it on his tunic before handing it back to her, "I trained her myself, this legate is no traitor."

She takes the dagger and salutes him, violently shoving off the man holding her and stepping away from him, "Thank-you, Proconsul."

He grins and then looks around, "Take the boy home, there might yet be danger here."

She nods and goes to Niklaus, closing her hand around his forearm and leading him to the praetorian guard.

Emperor Ansel turns to the guard as they approach, "Escort my son home, I wish to see the end of the games."

The guard opens his mouth to protest but Ansel waves him away and draws Caroline in for an embrace,

"Thank the gods that you were watching my son," he announces, before speaking in a barely audible tone,

"I cannot let Rome see my fear, take my son home and keep him safe."

"I will." She swears.

* * *

"Is this the first time?" she demands once she has seen Niklaus safely home through the streets, up the Palatine and into his father's villa. She does not stop until they are in the garden and even then, she decides that the study would be a safer place to talk.

"The first time somebody has tried to kill me?" Niklaus asks, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, "If it is not then it is a rather unpleasant revelation to me."

He is clearly shaken and Caroline recalls that she's not speaking to a fellow soldier, but a man who had never seen war, or death outside of the Colosseum.

"Are you alright?"

He shrugs and straightens up, "Thank-you for saving my life, Caroline, although…" his tone becomes shaky,

"When you were coming towards me, I was aware that something was wrong. I could see your far on your face, but I was not afraid, because I knew you would save me."

That trust. That faith.

She remembered when they were children, when evening fell and it was time for her and her father to go home.

They would barely even bid farewell to one other because they had always known that they would see each other tomorrow.

She had never said goodbye to him.

If he had died today…

Without thinking she lunges forward, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close, hugging him as tightly as she can, needing to feel him alive.

His arms snake around her back, like iron pressing her against him, their eyes squeezed shut and neither of them can breathe.

"I knew you would not let any harm come to me," he whispers and she shivers at the sensation of his breath on her ear, "Why is that?"

She opens her eyes and tries to lean back but he doesn't release her and she suddenly realizes that this is the first time that she's ever embraced a man without her armor on.

The clothing between them feels flimsy, offering no protection at all as she feels her breasts pressed against his hard chest and her cheeks flame as her eyes drop self-consciously.

"My protector," Niklaus whispers, "My beautiful Minerva."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips and she inhales sharply, entranced by that gesture and he lowers his face close to hers.

She knows that he's going to kiss her and a thrill of fear runs through her, she turns her face away, biting her lip. He hesitates only a moment before his hand leaves her back and strokes her hair away from her neck, placing his lips in the hollow before her collarbone.

" _Oh_." The word escapes her, his lips are hot and wet on her skin and the sensation is very pleasant.

She runs her hands across his shoulders, her fingers dragging on his tunic and searching up his neck for his hair, playing with the gold silken curls she finds there. He bends her slightly and she plants her feet firmly on the floor, pushing up and delighting in the feel of his hard body against hers.

When he pulls away from her neck, his bright blue eyes find hers and she nods, granting him permission to kiss her.

But she's still rendered breathless with surprise when he does.

She's breathless even before his tongue slips inside her mouth. She's smiling even though it makes kissing him so much the harder and she wants to laugh and clap her hands even though either act would mean that she would have to stop what they were doing.

And she doesn't want to.

Not until he presses her against the marble wall and begins fumbling for the fibula clasp on her shoulder with one hand while the other squeezes her hip and begins moving north.

She breaks the kiss and puts her hands on his chest to hold him back when he would kiss her again. She closes her eyes and takes steady breaths.

"Come to my bed," he murmurs, his voice rough and heavy, "Or shall we go to yours?"

She makes a small sound of protest and shakes her head, "No, we can't."

He chuckles and his hand reaches up to palm her right breast and she presses into it, biting her lip and groaning when he squeezes it through the fabric.

"Of course we can," He coaxes, "And we both want to."

"No," she pushes him away, more firmly this time,

"Emperor's sons do not fuck the traitor's daughter."

He goes as cold and still as if she'd thrown a bucket of freezing water on him.

"You are not…" he begins and she blinks,

"Not what? The daughter of William the traitor? If I'm not his daughter than I am Ansel's and this is even greater a crime."

He releases her and shakes his head, frowning in displeasure and she takes the moment to try to fix her appearance, to run her hands through her hair and reattach her fibula,

"My father welcomed you back with open arms," he points out, "Do you honestly think he bares you any ill will? He loves you Caroline, he will not let any Roman speak of you as being of traitor's blood."

She shrugs and wishes she were wearing her armor, "Silence is not the same as innocence. I am still a Forbes."

She has ruined the innocence of the moment, the passion and when he reaches for her she slips past him, striding down the hall and when she hears his footsteps behind her, she breaks into a run.

He hesitates for a second but that is all she needs, he is fit and healthy but she has been trained to run and is by far the faster sprinter.

Even in a stola.

She races out the door, into the early evening and up the hill to the sanctuary of Elijah's villa.

"Caroline!"

Even when he shouts her name she doesn't look back.

* * *

A/N- Well, that got depressing quick.


	3. Chapter 3

Caroline did not stop running until she reached Elijah's villa, foolishly pretending that the walls and doors would be any sort of barrier that would stop Niklaus from chasing her.

She knows that as the Emperor's son, he wouldn't even need an army, he could simply command a door to be opened or demand that Elijah bring her out.

Still, there is comfort to be found in winding her way deeper into the villa, moving into the study where Elijah sat pouring over a parchment, his hand on one corner and the asp asleep on the other, holding it in place for him.

"Is something the matter?" he asks, barely glancing up as she sits down on the couch,

"You are breathless."

Caroline runs a hand through her hair and tosses her palla to the floor,

"Your brother was nearly murdered today," she begins and he turns around to face her quickly, pulling on the parchment and the asp hisses as it wakes up, sensing its master's distress.

"He is fine, unharmed," she assured him, "I escorted him back to his father's home."

"I shall visit him," he murmurs, standing up and ensuring that his robes were in place before striding to the door, "Shall you come with me?"

Caroline purses her lips and shakes her head, she does not doubt for a moment that if she returned to Klaus' side tonight that she would not leave him before morning.

Elijah frowns a little at her refusal but nods and scoops up the asp, striding from the room as it still made its way up his arm.

Caroline found a slave and ordered wine, drinking deeply as she returned to her chamber and lay down on her couch, trying to calm herself after the day's events.

Niklaus' lips had tasted sweet, she had never kissed a man who had not tasted of wine or meat.

Thinking of those few men, those soldiers, makes her wonder where Enzo is.

She could use his level-head and counsel tonight.

* * *

In his concern for his brother, Elijah does not see anything around him but the Emperor's villa, he hurries inside, pushes past a person and strides to the gardens where his little brother was want to retreat whenever his thoughts consumed him.

He finds him sitting on the rim of the fountain, with Rebekah's head in his lap as she weeps,

"You…could…have…died." she sobs and he strokes her hair,

"I am fine," he assures her, looking up as Elijah kneels before him, putting his left hand on his shoulder, "I am well, brother."

"I thank the gods for that," he tells him, giving him a little shake before he sits beside him,

"I came as soon as Caroline told me."

Niklaus' hand stills and he looks at him out of the corner of his eye, "She made it home safely then?"

Elijah frowns, trying to figure out why his little brother suddenly looks so guilty, "Yes, why should she not have done so?"

Niklaus shrugs, "No reason."

Elijah is about to inquire further when the Emperor steps out onto the terrace, "There you are."

Rebekah is made to sit up and handed over to Matron Ayana, who begins fussing over her as Niklaus is embraced by his father,

"I would have come sooner," the Emperor apologizes,

"If Elijah had not knocked me against the wall as he stormed inside."

Elijah bows his head in mortification, "Forgive me, I did not realize."

Ansel snorts, "Your devotion to your brother needs no explanation," he says with a wave of his hand, "I am glad of it."

"Do we know what happened?" he asks, "Who was behind the attack?"

Niklaus shakes his head, "Caroline killed the man where he stood."

Elijah notes the way the name of his old playmate falls from Niklaus' tongue, the manner in which he seems to leave him breathless after speaking it.

"Where is she now?" Ansel asked, looking around, "I wish to speak with her."

"She is at my villa," Elijah informs, "Shall I send for her?"

The Emperor frowns, obviously displeased, "She left Niklaus _alone_? After I tasked her with his protection?"

"I sent her home," Niklaus says quickly, his voice overly relaxed as it was wont to be when he lied, "The praetorian guards are here, I could not be safer."

Elijah sees a puzzle before him, a secret that he wants to get to the heart of but he can hear people gathering inside the villa and leaves his brother to his thoughts and Rebekah's comfort so he can follow Ansel inside.

He sees several senators milling about, a slithering of senators he thinks to himself and takes his position behind the Emperor. He holds no position in the Senate but with his knowledge of the law, history and philosophy he was granted access and permission to speak.

Senator Tristan was watching him avidly and he has to practice keeping his disgust off his face.

The man sought power with more desperation than a man in the desert sought drinking water.

"My son is well, the assassin is dead," Ansel announces, "Yet, I will not rest easy until I have those responsible in the dungeons."

Nods of agreement, in perfect unison served to make this group of men look more ridiculous than usual and Elijah allows himself a small smile before he hears his name spoken.

"How can we not be sure that the guilty party is not among us?" Tristan continues,

"After all, Citizen Mikaelson left mere moments before the attack."

Rage quietly begins to boil in Elijah's veins but he keeps a calm façade,

"Where is the logic in this accusation?" he inquires, "Were I guilty of this crime, would I not have stayed to witness it? Or ensured that I was with someone at the time to allay suspicion?"

"That is what someone as wise as you would not do," Tristan suggests, "Too perfect a story would give the appearance of falsehood."

"Therefore, what proof do we have that it was not you?" he demands, pointing to Elijah,

"Acting on the orders of the _Egyptian_ bitch?"

The asp rears its head, hissing dangerously and Elijah puts his thumb and fore-finger around its neck, ready to restrain it if it decided that Rome could manage with one less senator.

"I love my wife," he says quietly, "As she loves me, enough to never ask me to betray my brother or my people."

"Perhaps, Senator Martell," the Emperor says, "You would do better to find those at fault rather than accuse every member of my family, unless you should like to suggest that my step-daughter or even I could have been behind the attack?"

The senator bows his head, "Forgive me, but you cannot forget that it was my family that revealed the treachery close to your heart all those years ago, it would be a crime were I not to watch the traitor's daughter and her friends closely."

Ansel grips his robe and tangles it in his fist, "By all means, watch the legate Forbes," he permits,

"But do not be surprised if it costs you both eyes."

The senators are sent away and Ansel retires to his study, "I wish to speak to Caroline," he tells Elijah,

"I saw the fear in her eyes when she was accused today, I wish to assure her that she is safe."

He nods and waves to a slave, "Shall I send for her?"

"Please."

The two men settle down to wait, the asp making its way down Elijah's arm and curling in his lap, propping its head on his knee so he can watch the Emperor.

"Does the creature not disturb you?" Ansel asks curiously and the younger man smirks,

"He did at first," he admits, stroking his head, "But Katerina insisted that he shall protect me."

The Emperor hums in clear disapproval but does not say anything further, instead turning his attention to an agricultural report until the slave returns.

"Forgive me," the man stammers, "She is not in the villa."

Elijah raised his eyebrows, "Do you know where she is?"

The man scratched the back of his neck, "I asked and was told that she had gone to seek her men."

Elijah smothered his laugh before it even left his throat, "Considering this is Rome, it would be no strain to guess what kind of establishment her men currently reside in."

* * *

Caroline adjusts the heavy masculine mask on her face, she had taken it from Elijah's villa as the barest nod to modesty she could manage while walking through the dirtier parts of the city.

She'd had to ask a slave where the soldiers tended to frequent, having known the answer would be a lupanar, caupona or taberna but having also known that the number of those buildings in Rome would be greater than drops of blood on a battlefield.

The man had been horrified but had given her the directions she required to a general area, after which she was forced to walk the streets, her sword at her side as she ignored the calls of the men around her until she recognized her brothers-in-arms.

She hears them and then smells the wine they're drinking before she sees them.

Enzo is bent over a game of dice and does not even look up as she smacks him over the head,

"You are losing." she chastises as she sits down at the table beside him, helping herself to his wine.

"Says you." He retorts before rolling and drawing snake eyes, causing her to laugh as he does indeed lose his bet.

"What are you doing here, love?" he asks, taking his cloak and draping it over her shoulders despite the warm night, "This is Rome, should you not be on the Palatine?"

"My men are here," she points out, spreading her hands as she notes just how many of her battalion are in the caupona, there would be no chance of drilling tomorrow, "Where they go, I go."

Enzo makes a face, "In the savage lands, yes, but here…" he shrugs, "Will people not talk?"

She shrugs and motions for another jug of wine, "My family reputation can not get any worse."

She drinks deeply and draws her purse out, placing coins on the table and taking the die from her friend's competitor, "Double or nothing?" she offers.

After winning back her losses, she stands to stretch her legs and roam the room, taking note of which of her men are there and what situations they find themselves in.

Stefan is so deep into his wine that he is at risk of drowning while his brother has two actresses on his lap and another standing behind him, massaging his shoulders.

He would find his purse empty tomorrow but she knew that no matter how great a woman's beauty, he would not be too distracted to protect himself from the pimp lurking in the corner.

A courtesan walks past, running a hand down her arm and Caroline smiles, "Thank-you but no."

"Such beautiful hair," the woman sighs, wrapping a curl around her finger, "And natural too,"

"There is a man looking for one such as you," she continues, "He looks wealthy."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "He can continue searching," she tells her, "My talents lie in wielding the sword, not being the sheath."

The courtesan laughs and makes her way over to Enzo, Caroline notes that the woman looks clean at least and continues her search, wondering where Matthew had got to.

She hears her name and frowns, certain that she must be hearing voices as she stretches to look over the heads of the crowd, shrugging it off, she delves through a curtain into a room of couches where some of the women were dancing but most were with customers in various stages of undress.

A hand appears out of nowhere and fastens hard on her arm, pulling her into a corner before she can even cry out. She reaches for her sword before her captor hisses her name,

"Niklaus." She stares at him incredulously, standing before her in a worn cloak which covers his rich robes, casts his face into shadow and hides his golden curls,

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?!" he snaps, his blue eyes shining in fury, "Do you not know what this place is?"

She nods, "It's a tavern," she jerks her head, "The whores were the first clue."

He gapes at her like a fish out of water and she resists the urge to giggle at his innocence,

"I drink where my men drink," she tells him, "One of the many duties of my position."

His hand gripes her arm even tighter, "You are a daughter of Rome and friend to the first family," he spits, "You cannot cavort in a tavern."

He makes a path to the door, tugging her along with him and she allows this, still a little surprised and breathless from being in his presence again,

"I have a litter to take us back to the Palatine."

To the Palatine.

To his sleeping couch?

"No," she digs her feet into the badly cobblestoned path outside, "I want to stay with my men."

He laughs, "With what?! That pathetic mask to protect your modesty? You are being foolish."

She glares at him, her ire quickly rising and tries to break his hold without hurting him but she is either too gentle or drunker than she realized because he is able to pull her to the covered litter before she can shake his grip and when she does, he instinctively tries to stop her.

In the tussle, she falls into the litter, her back hitting the cushions and she goes to push herself up before he captures her wrists in his hands, squeezing them as his knees press into her legs, hanging off the edge with her feet firmly on the ground.

"Caroline," he growls, "I am your friend."

Except he is _not_ her friend.

She does not know what he is to her exactly, but she does not care for him in the same manner she cares for Enzo.

And she knows that if she allows him to put her in this litter, that they will not make it to the Palatine before she has surrendered herself to his touch.

She can see it now, the rocking of the litter, shards of light making it through the curtains, Niklaus' propped on his hands as he moves above her, their clothes pushed up to their waists, their legs tangled together.

She stills as the dream overwhelms her and glancing upwards, she can see her eyes have betrayed her thoughts to Niklaus. His touch has softened and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he begins bending over, his mouth barely an inch from hers when he whispers her name,

"Caroline."

Suddenly he is gone. A shout as the only thing above her is the night sky and she sits up hastily, looking about her for the threat and sees him staggering backwards, clutching his nose as blood splatters to the stones.

Enzo is standing in front of her, a small scattering of her men hurrying from the tavern as he grips a dagger in his hands, "You piece of…"

" _No!_ " she shouts, pushing herself to her feet and striding across the space, "Stop now!"

Her word is law to her men, even as drunk as they are and she puts herself between Enzo and Niklaus. Her friend glares and holds his dagger up, pointing it over her shoulder,

"Are you mad?!" he demands, his bloodlust up, "He was going to…"

"He's the Emperor's son!"

His fury morphs into mortification as the others stand to attention and he realizes that he's forfeit his life. Caroline gestures for him to lower his dagger and turns to Niklaus,

"Let me see," she orders, pulling his hands away from his nose and running his fingers along it, even as he winces, "It is not broken," she sighs in relief.

"You'll be fine."

But he ignores her, instead, looking over her head to where Enzo is standing, his hands at his sides, tense as he awaits his fate.

Caroline puts a hand on his chest as he goes to step forward, "He is family to me," she says softly, pleadingly, unable to look into his eyes, " _Please._ "

Niklaus manages to appear offended even as blood is drying around his mouth and chin,

"You do not know me at all, Caroline." He murmurs in reply, placing a hand on her waist as he moves around her.

He faces Enzo, who to his honor, does not lower his eyes, or shrink back but stands facing him.

"You would have killed me," Niklaus states, his voice void of emotion, "To protect Caroline."

Caroline cannot bring herself to turn around and face her friend, she cannot bear to watch his suffering, so she closes her eyes and hears his ragged intake of breath,

"Yes," he admits, "I would have."

A moment of silence in which all Caroline can see are steps covered in falling snow mixed with fresh blood.

"If ever you need a favor," Niklaus begins, "Ask, and if it's within the power of myself or my family, it will be granted."

Caroline cautiously opens her eyes and looks over her shoulder, through the curtain of her hair and sees the two men clasping forearms, Enzo's expression frozen in shock before Niklaus turns back to her,

"My father wished to speak with you tonight," he tells her, "Come."

He walks to the litter and after a moment, she follows him, stopping only when Enzo grips her elbow in passing, "I will be fine," she assures him, "And will see you tomorrow."

This time, she climbs willingly into the litter, nodding to her men before closing the curtains. She leans on her elbow as the carriers lift it onto their shoulders, glancing at Niklaus surreptitiously as he wipes his blood onto his toga.

She reaches for him, taking the hem of his toga and dabbing at the blood he'd missed, careful to avoid the darkening bruise. She is not afraid now, because whatever risk there had been before of her surrender had been lost amongst the blood and fear.

"Are you his lover?" Niklaus asks, keeping his eyes on the cushion under her knees and she scoffs at the idea,

"No, Enzo is my second-in-command and a brother to me,"

"Not that it matters," she continues when she catches him smiling, "I will not take a lover while in Rome."

He laughs at that, the sound surprising in the quiet of the enclosed space, "You are certain of that."

She opens her mouth in confirmation when he puts his hands on her waist and throws her onto her back, causing the litter to sway dangerously as the carriers tried to adjust the sudden weight and in terror of falling, Caroline grabs onto Niklaus' shoulders.

He takes the chance to kiss her, delving his tongue into her mouth as he pushes a knee between her thighs, she automatically closes her eyes and kisses him back, her body thrilling at the weight of him atop her.

For a wild moment, she thinks the insanity of earlier can be recaptured and her heart races at the thought of lifting her stola and letting him take her.

Thank fortuna that instead, she tastes blood on his lips and it brings her back to the moment.

She breaks the kiss, turning her cheek to the side and when Niklaus strokes her hair back to kiss her neck, she bucks her hips but pushes him away,

"You cannot keep kissing me." she tells him, using the same tone when commanding her men but he only grins,

"Then perhaps you should stop kissing me back?"

She shakes her head in frustration, slapping him when he leans down to kiss her again, but he switches tactics and brushes her hair out of the way,

"I want you in my bed, Caroline," he murmurs in her ear, running his tongue along the shell and her eyelids flutter closed, "And I believe you want to be there."

He was right.

But she still pushes him away and when he shifts back onto his knees, she takes the opportunity to part the curtains, seeing that they are already on the Palatine, she throws him an apologetic look before pushing herself down, dropping the six feet with ease and hurrying out of the way of the stunned carriers.

"Caroline!" Niklaus shouted as she picked up her stola and began moving quickly, darting around the bewildered pedestrians, "Stop running away from me."

For some reason, the annoyance in his voice has her laughing and she turns around to wave to him before resuming her walk to Elijah's villa.

It is only when she is curled up on her sleeping couch that she recalls that the Emperor had wished to speak to her and she sits back up before noting how late it is and resolves to speak to him first thing tomorrow.

* * *

Lupanar- secret tavern where men could go to dine, drink and gamble.  
Caupona- low class inn 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N- This will not be updated as frequently as you all would like because unfortunately, my time is often not my own. However, I will never abandon this story.

* * *

It was early morning and the day had barely begun, the slaves were still making their way through the villa, but the Emperor was already at work in his study, sorting through scrolls of parchment and studying the map that showed the location of Rome's armies.

Wondering whether he needed to issue a decree if he ever wished to see Caroline again.

How many times had he requested to see her now?

He hadn't had to chase after a woman like this since Esther.

He hears a familiar footfall in the hall and smiles as his son approaches, easing his way into the room, with unusual tentativeness, he had always burst into the study like a gust of wind, bringing life to an otherwise dull room.

"One begins to suspects that Caroline has left Rome," Ansel gripes, as he scrawls his name across the parchment,

"And that you are all conspiring to keep this news from me."

"She has not left Rome, father," Niklaus' voice is hesitant and Ansel frowns,

"Then why must I go to such lengths to obtain an… _what happened?!_ "

Half of his son's face was a riot of colors, blues, greens and purples splashed across swollen skin and Ansel lurches towards him, dragging him to the light so he can see the injury better.

"Nothing is broken," Niklaus reports, tilting his head back obediently but he does not take comfort in this fact,

"Was there another attack?" he demands, "Where were your guards? Should I have them whipped or sent to the stairs?"

Niklaus takes his hands, lowering them, "I am well, I was not attacked…as such."

His son has a guilty look in his eye and Ansel steps back with a frown, "Explain."

His tone brooked no refusal and his child sighs before giving him what he assumed was a greatly altered and redacted version of the events that had taken place.

Yet he still failed to make himself the hero or injured party in his telling.

"The _Emperor's_ only _son_ brawled outside a _brothel_ in the streets of _Rome?!_ " Ansel cried,

"How am I just learning of this _now_?"

Niklaus shrugged, "Perhaps we were unseen?"

He snorted and turned to his table, "Believe me, Niklaus, a man's actions never go unseen, if naught else, the gods watch over us."

He picked over the information in his mind, "You said the man mistook you for a thug, that he thought Caroline in danger?"

His son looks to the ground and squirms, but he does not lie, "Yes, father," he admits, glancing up quickly, "But it was not his fault."

"Dare I ask what reason he had to fear for Caroline?" he demands,

"And in what position he found the pair of you?"

"I was trying to get Caroline back to the Palatine," he begins, "She refused to go because her soldiers were there and she did not think it wrong to drink with them…" he pauses to clear his throat before continuing, "I had brought a litter to carry her and was trying to get her into it when her men found us."

Ansel rubs his forehead, "And are the men aware that there was a misunderstanding? Or will the rumors state that you attempted to dishonor a daughter of Rome?"

Niklaus nods eagerly, "Yes, Caroline assured them she was safe with me."

She should not have had to, but Ansel lets that pass, "I hope the man who hit you suffered no ill in spite of his actions?"

His son hurries to assure him that he had offered the man his friendship and favor were he ever in need of aid and Ansel sighs with relief.

If nothing else came from the disaster, at least his son had managed to comport himself well in one respect.

With a sigh, he sinks back into his chair and considers his boy.

He did love him dearly, and though he was not blind to his faults, he could freely admit that he was a son of which he could be proud. Intelligent, well versed in the necessary studies and an intelligent man, well versed in the necessary studies, he had a talent for sketching that Ansel suspected could have made him an architect were he not destined to be consul of Rome.

If only he were not so impulsive and foolish when it came to matters of the heart.

The first time he had seen Caroline after those long, cold years, he had himself been stunned by the beautiful woman before them both and to see her with his son, he could not help but admit what a pair they made.

And with Caroline as his wife, Niklaus would have the support of the army, which- as he was not a soldier- he had yet failed to win. But the boy was going about the matter foolishly, Caroline had no mother or father to ascertain the situation and urge her into flirtations with him, she was a female warrior who had spent her life surrounded by powerful men, men who had earned their position, not been born into it.

Ansel considered the situation and wished he could apply the same cunning and prowess that had made him consul and Emperor of Rome, a man who had survived numerous plots to overthrow him, and even more attempts to see him married after Esther's death.

Yet, even as many a play and ploy run across his manipulative mind, he strongly suspects that to have a hand in the union of his son and Caroline would have the opposite result of what he intended.

The two of them were both stubborn and headstrong in their own way, if they thought they were being pushed together, they would likely throw themselves apart.

Therefore, he sends his son away and returns to his less interesting work, the running of an Empire.

And takes comfort in the knowledge that, if all else failed, he could order the pair of them to marry.

* * *

Elijah was famous for scorning of rumors and gossip, refusing to ever allow his ear to become audience to such tidings.

It was a virtue for which Caroline was grateful that morning as they broke their fast, for years in the army had taught her how fast bad news could fly and she dreaded anyone hearing about the scuffle that had taken place the night before.

Not for her sake, or even for Niklaus', but she worried that fanatics or those seeking to earn Ansel's favor might seek to harm Enzo.

Instead, Elijah murmurs about the weather and his intention to visit the temple to Isis, inviting Caroline along almost absent-mindedly and seeming pleasantly surprised when she expressed her intention to go.

She changed quickly into her uniform, grabbing her sheath and short sword, reminding herself that she could not use her weapon on the damn snake as she hurries to the street, where Elijah stood awaiting her.

It was early, the streets were not yet as filled as they would be a midday, yet Caroline still had to keep close to Elijah, lest she lose him in the crowds and they had to bend their heads together, so she could hear him as he explained the Egyptian goddess to her, her myth and how it all supposedly related back to the Pharaoh.

The temple was close to those that honoured the Roman gods- the real gods- in the Campus Martius, a fair walk from the Palatine, and to the east from the Saepta Julia, the entrance they used was marked by a triumphal arch and as Caroline stepped inside, she noticed that it was a double temple, one to the goddess Isis and one to Serapina, separated by a plaza with obelisks and a strange mixture of Egyptian and Hellenic architecture.

The walls were decorated by motifs that evoked Egypt with a skill that had Caroline remembering the sand under her feet and the heat of the sun on her neck.

When they had stepped into the shadowy interior, the asp slid down from Elijah's arm and hung precariously off his wrist until he lowered his hand to the floor and allowed the creature to slither off out of sight.

"I hope snakes are sacred to this goddess," Caroline quips, "Otherwise, it shall quickly be crushed under heel."

Elijah gives her a pointed look, "I am sure it has gone to seek out the priestess."

Caroline crosses her arms and moves towards the altar, noting a daily offering must have already taken place, because the marble was still wet from having been scrubbed clean afterwards.

She takes another step forward, adjusting her footing, suddenly aware that she is being watched and her hand drops to the hilt of her sword, as if resting there.

"There is no need for that," states a voice from the shadows,

"It is forbidden to shed blood of the unwilling in the Iseum."

Caroline turns to the direction from which the voice spoke and holds up her palms,

"Then I thank you for your assurance of safe passage for myself and my friend."

The disapproving silence speaks volumes, there is the rustle of silk on stone as the priestess emerges, her hair braided and the religious knot known as the Buckle of Isis tied around her waist.

"This hallowed ground is the safest place in Rome for the consort of our Pharaoh," the priestess bows her head to Elijah who returns the gesture. She holds a hand out to Caroline, "And to those who seek our aid."

Caroline frowns in confusion, about to point out that she has no reason to seek aid from a foreign mythical being, not when she has Neptune and her soldiers at her back yet, before she can speak, Elijah and the priestess are moving away, towards another room and she hurries to follow them.

They are in a garden, filled with plants she did not know grew in Rome, lotuses growing in vast numbers around a pool of water that she spots the asp lying by, on a rock bathed in sunlight from the hole in the roof.

Nor was it alone, what she had thought to be a skilled carving was in fact a sleeping crocodile.

Caroline can admit to herself in that moment that the reason she had followed Elijah to the Iseum was that she had feared if she had remained in his villa that Niklaus would seek her out.

She could still feel his lips against hers and had spent a sleepless night wondering if he would not try to come to her couch and if she would turn him away if he had.

Now, with a crocodile alarmingly close to her rather edible form, she thinks that a deity- Venus perhaps- was chastising her for having denied the Emperor's son.

It cracks one eye, observing her calmly and she raises her chin defiantly, hoping that if it does choose her for its next meal, it will at least eat the asp first. Yet, perhaps the creature had already fed on some other unsuspecting fool, because it merely closed its eye and went back to sleep.

She wonders whether she should not be offended to have been dubbed inedible by the ugly mud dweller, yet, decides to take her victories where she found them and joins Elijah and the priestess sitting on the right side of the pool, far away from the creature and by a table where three goblets of beer were placed.

"The Pharaoh bids you to remember her love for you and your vows of fidelity to her," the priestess is saying as Caroline finally joins them, and Elijah is nodding along agreeably,

"She further instructs you to practise caution, for your enemies gather around you and yours."

Caroline had been reaching for her beer, yet at those words she pauses,

"Does the Pharaoh have names for these enemies?" she asks,

"Or perhaps, the one who wished to kill Elijah's brother?"

The Priestess waved her hand, taking her own goblet and draining it to the dregs,

"She suspects yet cannot accuse, for even a Pharaoh dares not lay blame at the door of one who lives outside her lands."

Caroline huffed and drank her beer, "Seriously?! What is the point of knowing the guilty party if you cannot…"

Words fail her and she takes a slow breath, eyeing the goblet warily,

"There was more than beer in this," she says, glaring at the priestess accusingly, yet the woman merely shrugs,

"Mandrake, to ease you towards your future."

She gags on the sweet taste and stands, "Elijah, I will await you outside."

Their voices are quickly swallowed up by the shadows as she seeks the streets of Rome, noting when she exits the archway that the despite the sun that had warmed their skin in the Iseum, the day was overcast.

She does her best to brush it from her mind and searches for the Circus Flaminius knowing that the Temple to Neptune was nearby.

She should have thought to bring an offering, to pay for a bull to be sacrificed, or perhaps one of the many conch shells she had collected during her various campaigns over the years.

Her skin feels heated, despite the chill of the day and while she does not believe the priestess would have been so arrogant as to poison her in the very heart of Rome, she does not believe that the woman only knew the arts of wisdom and healing.

She catches the eye of a slave standing across the street and frowns that the man is so bold, scornfully she turns her back to him, knowing she can't challenge the man in public lest she be deemed mad or terrified of what enemies she must have.

Elijah joins her shortly, tucking a scroll into his robes and with the snake curled around his neck, and they begin walking up the now busy street, fortunately, their clothes mark them as people not to be pushed aside or knocked into.

"We are being followed." Caroline whispers, but her companion does not seem the least bit worried.

"I recognize the slave," he remarks, "He belongs to Senator Martell, the same man who accused you of attempting to assassinate Niklaus and me of being the mastermind."

He finishes his sentence with a yawn and when he is done covering his mouth, rubs the head of the asp, "Truly the man is no reason to be concerned, he is so open about his pathetic attempts of spying nobody cares to be worried."

Caroline accepts this with surprise, in the army, being caught spying on your own men rendered you a black eye, being caught spying on other men rendered you dead.

"It is a shame however, that he and I do not get along," Elijah sighs, "They say that Martell has collected letters and recordings of Senate meetings for the last thirty years, he would have a greater understanding of current events than even the Emperor himself, he would be a fascinating man to speak with."

Caroline snorted, she made a point to burn every letter she received that was not an order.

Still, she takes Elijah's arm and leads him on a roundabout way through Rome, until she is sure that they have lost the spy and only then sets their path to the Palatine.

* * *

Elijah's villa has the Praetorian guard standing out the front when they return and they make their way through to see the Emperor standing in the atrium and looking down at the floor.

"You are having work done," he notes as they approach and Elijah grins, "Yes, I was hoping to have a mosaic of the world placed here, with the water," he gestures to the pool, "To signify the seas."

The Emperor looks impressed as he glances up at Caroline, "I had not thought to see you again."

Caroline pales and puts her hands behind her back so nobody can see them shake,

"Am I not supposed to be here?" she manages and Elijah appears confused at the quaver in her tone but Ansel only shrugs,

"I had wished to speak with you after the attempt on my son's life, yet every time fate seemed destined to part us."

She forces herself to smile, recognizing that the man was attempting a joke, yet she still murmurs an excuse to take her leave, moving out to the poorly tended garden.

Elijah had once attempted to grow various plants from around the world in this soil and once it had failed, he had not bothered spending a great deal of time there, and the slaves- noting their master's disinterest- had not cared for the garden beyond keeping it neat.

Despite this neglect, an apple tree was growing in the center, its roots having stretched out to threaten the structure of the tiled path.

Niklaus was standing under its shade, stretching up to pluck one of the fruits from a branch and bite into it. Caroline watched as he sank his teeth into it just to pull back with a disgusted expression and toss the fruit to the ground before resuming his search amongst the branches for a riper piece.

The ground was now littered with ruined apples.

She tries to cover her amusement with a snort, covering her mouth with her hand as she moves to join him, reaching up to stay his hand as it stretched out for a particularly fat fruit.

"You cannot assault this poor tree," she chastises as he smiles at seeing her,

"It is not yours, besides, you have not liked any of its offerings yet, why would you like this one?"

He shrugs, "I cannot know unless I try it," he tells her, reaching for it again but she catches his wrist and draws it down, holding it firmly between them, shaking it once with feigned anger,

"Perhaps it is simply sweetness I crave?" he suggests, stepping closer and forcing her to raise her eyes to meet his, heat and tension sparking between them, "Something sweet and succulent to lose myself in?"

She draws a ragged breath and though he's already moving, she sees his intention and moves faster, capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss.

She releases his hand to grab his shoulders and then runs one hand through his hair, turning them both and leading him backwards, until he was pressed against the bark of the tree.

When they break for air, she presses her lips to his neck, nipping at the flesh and he hisses as his hands grip at her armor, moving over the leather, down to the skirt, trying to reach the bottom of her tunic and she grins, capturing his hands and putting them firmly on her waist. He groans, but settles for kissing her again, his tongue exploring her mouth as he holds her against him as tightly as possible.

Caroline is breathless and light-headed from passion, wondering how she could have denied herself this before, wondering why she had denied herself this before.

"Sweet," he whispers in her ear, nipping on the lobe and she shivers, "And succulent."

She moans as he slips a knee between her thighs, "Come to my bed tonight," she orders,

"I want you to."

He pulls back slightly and his lips are red and swollen from their kiss, "You are certain?"

"Niklaus!"

Both of them gasp as Elijah's voice echoes through the garden, and Caroline steps back, running her hands through her hair and ensuring her uniform was correct.

"I do hope you are not laying waste to my apple tree," he calls, "As I have reminded you every summer for the last fifteen years, you do not like the taste of apples."

Niklaus rolls his eyes and Caroline clears her throat, noting with dismay that her armor had left imprints against his bare arms. They were behind the tree, sheltered from the villa yet she moves forward any way, determined to cover up their transgression but he catches her arm.

"Tonight?" he asks, his eyes entreating and she nods, "But do not get caught."

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Okay this site has screwed up with frequent errors and I am pissed and ready to take everything to a certain other archive.

* * *

Caroline had thought that night would come slowly to her that day, yet, despite the anticipation thrilling through her body, the afternoon passed quickly.

The maligned apple tree cast its shadow on the garden, stretching onto the patio and the birds feasting on the fruit cast carelessly to the ground flew to their nests, shrilling and screaming to one another in a deafening cry.

Caroline stood staring at the sky for so long, watching the colours bleed into one another that she lost track of the time, starting when one of the slaves cautiously called her by her title.

"Yes?" she turned to them and they held up a wineskin for her,

"A messenger from the temple to the Egyptian goddess sent this," they explained quietly,

"For your pleasure."

She takes it from the slave with a slight frown, removing the stopper and sniffing at it curiously, it smelt the same as the beer she had consumed earlier.

But why would the priestess send her more? Caroline had not considered that she had endeared herself enough to the woman to warrant the gift.

Perhaps it was poison?

When Elijah emerged from his study, Caroline took an olive from the table and poured the beer over it, dropping it on the ground for the asp who had begun to slither its way to the garden to hunt for its evening meal.

Caroline hisses at it and kicks the olive towards it, hoping it will mistake it for a very small frog and Elijah notes the scene with amusement, dipping his bread in oil before chewing on it thoughtfully,

"Whilst your attempt to poison my pet is rather rude," he begins, sipping on his wine,

"I must admit the likelihood of your success too poor to be of pressing concern."

The asp gives her a glance and then turns its head in a clear snub, slithering away into the shadows and Caroline winces as she hears the strangled cry of a bird.

She explains the motivation behind her act and Elijah reaches for the wineskin, bringing it to his mouth without the least hesitation.

"Katerina is a skilled poisoner," he admits, "But I have knowledge in herbs as well."

He swallows a mouthful and swills it around, pausing for a second before walking over to a long dead bush, of which only the skeleton branches remained and spitting it out.

"Not poison," he assures her, as she rises to her feet in alarm, he wipes his mouth,

"At least, not in such small quantity. Mandrake."

Caroline slowly sinks back into her couch, taking the wineskin, she takes a sip herself,

"It tastes the same as the beer I drank at the Iseum." She confirms, "But why is the priestess giving me gifts?"

Elijah sits on the couch, leaning his elbows on the table,

"I shall speak to her about that in the morning," he promises her, "I doubt my wife will be glad to hear her servants are giving women who reside in my villa aphrodisiacs."

Caroline doesn't know the term and when Elijah explains it to her, she wishes she had never learnt the word.

She swallows as she glances over the back of the couch to the apple tree, remembering the feel of Niklaus' lips against hers, the taste of him on her tongue.

She had wanted him so badly.

Except that she had not. It had merely been magic, a love potion of sorts, clouding her mind and judgement.

Worse still, she had invited him to her bed.

He would come as soon as night finished falling and expect her to welcome him with open arms.

What if she did not?

Could she say _no_?

She swallows and her hand drops to her hip, where her sword would sit were she not in the company of a trusted friend and dining at his home.

Elijah plays with the cup in his hand and looks over the rim to her,

"You were alone with Niklaus earlier," he begins, unable to properly attain the off-hand manner he was striving for,

"I presume the mandrake achieved its intended purpose?"

Caroline felt her blood stain her cheeks and only having stared into the eyes of enemies as she'd killed them enabled her to continue meeting his gaze,

"If you are asking if I opened my legs for your brother behind an apple tree while you and the Emperor were close by, the answer is _no_ ," she told him forcefully,

"I have been trained to keep my head in the very midst of battle, in any condition that our army finds itself in, there is not enough mandrake in the world to make me lose my reason."

Elijah raises his eyebrows slightly, "Not your reason, perhaps," he allowed,

"Yet, what of the concerns you hypothetically might have regarding becoming my brother's lover?" he asked.

"What has become of them?"

Caroline shuts her jaw with a firm snap, glancing down at the meal, she feels her appetite vanish.

"I am retiring," she tells Elijah, climbing off the couch and her hand brushes the wineskin.

She picks it up and considers it before hurling it into the garden, she hears it hit something and then a responding hiss.

"If that asp bites me," she growls, "I shall ask to be buried in the Egyptian manner,"

"With you stuffed alive in the tomb with me." She finishes, upon seeing Elijah's confusion and he gives a rueful smile,

"Sleep well."

* * *

She did not.

She removed her armor, and slipped a white tunic over her head, letting the cool material brush against her skin as she paced her room.

The darkness consumed her and she did not light a candle to dispel it, hoping that any who passed it would think she slept.

Except for Niklaus.

He would enter her cubicula, having been granted invitation and with no reason to think it had been rescinded. He would think to find her waiting for him, eager to kiss him and have him in her arms again.

And he would not be wrong.

Even now, knowing there was external cause for her desire for him, that it had been heightened by magic, her body was still burning for him.

She could not send him a message telling him to stay away, though she had parchment in her room on which to scrawl a note, there would be no way to get it to him without risk of discovery.

That is what she tells herself as she sits down on her couch, pressing her thighs together as the tunic rubs over her bare breasts.

She closed her eyes, flinching when she thinks she hears a footfall outside.

She can imagine the path Niklaus is taking, not the ordinary one through the ostium to the vestibulum, through to the atrium where he would like as not be seen by one entering by anyone who still lingered outside on the Palatine after dark.

No, he would enter through the tiny side passageway, through the posticum, skirting along the fauces, likely ducking into the alae in case he heard someone approaching and then…

Then…

The curtain to her room is brushed aside and a figure darts in quickly, she hears his breathing and smiles ruefully as he approached.

Heightened breathing and no skilled attempt to move silently.

The Emperor's son would make a _terrible_ assassin.

A hand flutters under her chin and she lifts it, opening her eyes to meet Niklaus as he towers over her.

" _Caroline,_ " he breathes her name as if it were a prayer, yet he does not move closer.

In her mind's eye, she sees him pushing her back onto her bed, pulling her loose tunic down to expose her breasts as he kisses her hungrily, using his knee to part her thighs and she jolts as she feels the phantom thrust as he enters her.

Her mind is vivid, yet her reality seems frozen. She reaches up with a trembling hand and touches his wrist, "What is wrong?" she asks, "You do not seem…"

She cannot think of the word, not an appropriate one, however, Niklaus does not appear excited, amorous, lustful…

Instead, he is looking at her as if she might have a weapon concealed on her person.

Which she does not- although, she did have a dagger concealed under her pillow.

His fingers are still under her chin and she finds herself taking his hand and bringing it to her lips, kissing it impulsively before releasing him. He utters a small gasp and she stands slowly, about to speak when she feels the heat radiating from his body.

"You are too warm," she murmurs in concern, placing the back of her hand on his forehead,

"Do you have a fever?"

Fever was a symptom feared by soldiers, the merest instance of one soldier feeling warm when the day was cool could lead to vomiting and diarrhea befalling dozens if not hundreds of soldiers.

Death followed quickly on the heels of fever.

He shakes his head, "Not one that shall not pass soon enough."

He takes her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist in a grip tight enough to make her pull back instinctively,

"Do you want to know my other symptoms?" he asks, his voice growing hard and she shivers, not from the coldness of his tone, from the memory of the snow falling across her shoulders as her father's body was thrown down the Gemonian stairs.

She does not answer, yet he speaks as though she had assented.

"Dizziness overcame me shortly after leaving you this afternoon, my mouth became dry no matter how much wine I consumed and I blushed for so long, my father thought I had been burnt by the sun. Fortunately, I was able to hide the symptoms so that he did not guess the truth."

He pulls her close and her eyes flicker down as she realizes the flimsy barrier her tunic provided against his body, his wiry frame and she forces herself to raise her eyes back to his.

"Mandrake," Niklaus hisses the word in her face and she flinches, "You consumed it before kissing me, you had it on your tongue and lips, which is why you suddenly became so passionate towards me."

If he grips her wrist any tighter, she shall break his hold no matter the consequences,

"I consumed it and did not suffer your symptoms," she pointed out, "Why did it affect you so?"

He reels back, and she cannot see his eyes from that small distance in the darkness yet she can hear the surprise in his tone,

"You _admit_ it?" he queried, "You drank mandrake?"

She shrugs, hoping he will hear the movement if not see it, "It was in a beer I was given, I did not know the properties of the plant until Elijah told me afterwards…"

" _Elijah_ gave it to you?" he interrupted, his voice louder and she shushes him frantically,

"No," she answers quickly, "A priestess gave it to us…and be quiet, we cannot be discovered."

He finally releases her wrists and she rubs it, drawing it close to her as Niklaus steps closer,

"Get us some light." he orders and she snorts,

"No, I will not have the slaves knowing I am awake at this time, or Elijah- who will think I am available to debate philosophy at this hour."

He curses under his breath, or Caroline thinks he means to curse, the word he uses is so tame, her speech had been filled with much worse words before she had even had her first monthly bleed.

"Why were you ill?" she asks again, "I drank it in greater quantity and I am fine."

"Because I am _allergic_ to it," Niklaus explains, "Two years ago, Tristan's younger sister, Aurora, tried to mix a love philtre to make me lust for her. However, she misread the recipe or was overly enthusiastic, either way, she used so much mandrake that at first it worked very well, until I was overcome with hallucinations, unable to see the world around me, my heart hammering like a racing horse, laughing until I vomited…the physicians feared for my sanity. At Elijah's suggestion, I was taken to the baths of Diocletian- at night so no-one would see the Emperor's son reduced to idiocy- and plunged into the pool in the frigidarium, over and over for hours before my fever broke and my mind returned to me."

He leans closer to her and she puts her hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, trying to imagine how horrifying the scene would have been for his family, how terrifying for him when he had regained his senses.

"Since that day, mandrake in love potions has been banned in Rome and forbidden for any purpose on the Palatine," he tells her,

"Caroline, if my father had found out…"

To the stairs.

She shuddered, "I did not know," she breathed, "I was given it without my knowledge and threw away the rest. Elijah did not tell me…he merely warned me of its properties."

Niklaus exhaled, and suddenly his arms were about her waist, closing the smallest distance that had been left between them,

"Please," she whispered, " _Please_ do not accuse me, I am innocent."

"Hush," he shushes her, one hand threading his fingers through her hair, "All is well."

The _stairs_.

If she was lucky, she would be dead before she was thrown down them, if she were not, she would end her life feeling her head smashing against the stone.

She winces, already feeling the pain.

She shifts against Niklaus, lifting her face and when he looks down, she kisses him, parting her lips to allow his tongue to slip into her mouth. Her hands are trapped between their bodies; however, she has enough movement to take a hold of her tunic and drag up the material until it bunched at her stomach,

"Take me," she murmurs when she breaks their kiss, "I want you, Niklaus, I am _yours_."

He growls, his hand leaving her back to grip her hip, bare to him now and down to the curls between her legs. He cups her and she starts instinctively, having never had a hand not her own touch her thighs before.

Yet, if it bought her a stay of execution, if it granted her life, it was a small price to pay.

She closes her eyes, biting her lip when a finger pushes into her, it was not a pleasant feeling and she wondered how whores managed to earn their living.

"Where is your honey?" he asks, pressing his mouth to her ear and she frowns, wondering why he would think to find honey down there.

He removes his finger and she opens her eyes again, trying to determine what was happening as he took her tunic from her hand, letting it fall back down to her knees,

"I shall try not to take offense at how cold you are for me without aphrodisiac." he says wryly, and she reaches for him, gripping his elbows,

"Come to my bed," she tells him, "Perhaps it will work better lying down."

He gives a barking laugh and she jumps at the noise before he covers his mouth, "That will not solve the issue," he whispers, kissing her cheek and then her neck, "Position will not alter lack of desire."

"Can you not just…" she waves her hand helplessly, "Do it anyway?"

His hand is on her back, running along her spine, it stills at her words and he lifts his face to gaze into her eyes, "Do it _anyway_?" he echoes and she huffs in frustration,

"I have seen soldiers with their blood up after battle," she points out, "You cannot tell me that the women they come across feel desire during their rape. I know their screams are not ones of pleasure."

"And is how you wish me to treat you Caroline?" Niklaus demands, his voice as cold as the stone stairs, "As a soldier in a conquered town?"

"I wish to live," she snaps, stomping her foot, "And if that means having you…should I fetch the beer?" she asks, "I threw it into the garden, it is probably still there and as long as you do not kiss me…"

He is moving away from her now,

" _Why_ …" he breaks off, "Every time I think you are tender towards me…always you act as though I am your _enemy_! If I wanted a body do you think I would pursue _you?!_ "

"Seriously?!" she responds, "You hunted me through the streets of Rome, you have done nothing but pursue me since I set foot in this city…"

"Not for your _body_!"

"Then for _what?!_ "

"Niklaus, Caroline, will you two be _quiet_!"

Both of them gasp, backing away from the door as a figure pushes his way in.

Elijah stood before them, glaring as his hand shielded the flame of the candle, "When I heard your voices from my own cubicula, it was of no concern, yet at this rate, the slaves will hear you in the kitchens and the Palatine spies will hear you from the streets."

Caroline clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak before Niklaus steps in front of her, shielding her with his body,

"I am to blame, big brother," he says, "I forced my entry to Caroline's room, she was trying to order me to leave her."

Elijah's glare brings to mind his asp, which was thankfully not present,

"If I thought for a second you were here without Caroline's invitation, I would have dragged you from my house by your hair and not stopped until we reached the Tarpeian Rock…which I would have thrown you _off_ ," he adds, as if that final part was necessary, people only went to that cliff to be executed or expose their newborn infants. "It does not take a man of great intelligence to guess how you came to be here, however, by the same token, even a man of _your_ intelligence can see that you are overstaying your welcome."

He stepped back, "I shall make you a tonic to help with the effects of the sunburn and escort you home."

Niklaus raised an eyebrow, yet nodded his consent, "If I may have a moment?"

Elijah did not look disposed to grant him this wish, however, Caroline nods quickly to show him all was well and he slipped out of the room.

Niklaus exhaled and turned to face her as she crossed her arms, presenting no more a welcoming figure than Elijah had.

"Very well," he huffs, taking her shoulders and pulling her towards him so that he could kiss her cheek,

"I do not want you for your body, Caroline," he murmured, so quietly that she could barely hear him, "I want your heart."

She swallows and manages a small smile, "Sleep well."

* * *

Niklaus felt his skin prickle from the cold night air as Elijah left him standing in the atrium, cast into darkness, the frescoes on the wall looked vaguely threatening and the unfinished mural brought to mind an abandoned building that poor people might live in.

His brother emerged from his study clutching a wineskin and pushed it into his hands,

"Borage, poppy and crushed chicory," he informs him, "Drink."

Obediently, Niklaus brought it to his lips and swallowed, nearly gagging on the terrible taste,

"I may have used too much borage," Elijah says, shrugging unrepentantly, "I am tired from being awoken in the middle of the night."

Niklaus glares at him, "You were never asleep."

"Perhaps you are right," Elijah allows, leading him to the ostium, "Perhaps I was in my study, reading as you knew I would be, hence the reason you left your own home this late at night…no," he pauses and corrects himself, "You came shortly after I had eaten for a lesson in history, you mentioned that you were having trouble sleeping, and did not wish to disturb or distract your father from his work, which is why you sought my companionship. Meanwhile, Caroline, having a headache, retired to bed before you came, you did not see her this night."

Niklaus scowled in chagrin and embarrassment, "Do you think me a cur?"

"No," his brother answered, "I think you a _fool_."

He stopped in the street, the cobblestones digging into his sandals and Elijah turns around with a sigh, "Yes?"

Niklaus glares at him, "You know me," he argues, "You know I would not hurt her."

"Do I?" his brother challenges, moving back to him, "I know she has no-one in this world to speak for her, save myself, I know that your attention will draw her enemies out of the shadows and I know she fears her desire for you, and she is a soldier, Niklaus, she does not fear war, bloodshed or death, only _you_."

He cups his neck and gives him a little shake, "If you want her, first make her feel safe and loved, then she will come to you."

Niklaus wants to lash out, to ask how he is meant to manage this when every time he gains ground she flees to new territory, yet before he can speak, Elijah's name is called and the two of them turn to see a slave running up the hill.

"Forgive me, master," he calls, "We have sent for the guard, there is a dead man in your gardens!"

* * *

A/N- And there was no smut to be had.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Thanks for reading!

* * *

Caroline had waited breathlessly in her room, counting her heartbeats as Niklaus left and Elijah followed moments later, muttering darkly under his breath.

Releasing a sigh, she sunk onto her bed and ran her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes she wonders if she will have to request Elijah for a sleep draught.

She has never taken one before, they were rarely used in army camps, if a soldier took too great a dose they could be useless in battle. If the physician was a spy, he could render the whole camp immobile and vulnerable to the enemy.

Still, she cannot imagine falling asleep tonight without aide.

Were her body not still quivering with fear from the memories of the stairs, she would have the imagery of Niklaus being forced into the freezing water to haunt her.

Frustrated, she is on her feet and nearly walks into the atrium before she senses it.

The prickling on the back of her neck and the knowledge settling across her forehead that tells her that she is not alone.

There is someone outside and she does not think it is one of the slaves.

Darting back to her bed, slipping off her sandals so she could move silently, she slides her hand under her pillow.

And encounters nothing.

Her dagger was gone.

 _How?!_

She has a moment of panic but then the curtain into her room is being pushed aside and she throws herself forward, away from the assassin at her back, spinning to face him as she struggles to see in the semi-darkness.

The man has a short-sword, smells like a soldier and for a moment, Caroline is so relieved that she almost smiles.

Even if she lived a hundred lifetimes, Caroline would never develop the brute strength necessary to best a well-armed man in an even fight.

Therefore, she'd learnt to cheat, to fight not only like a soldier, but as a killer as well, where the rules did not apply, all that mattered was survival.

There was little honour in her method, but her families honour had long since been lost anyway.

The man does not know her, for he approaches her with his arms wide in an almost conciliatory gesture.

"This will be short and painless." he lies, as if she had not seen that same promise proven false a thousand times before.

She whimpers, high-pitched and false as his words, backing up until she hit the wall and knew her chest to be beside her. She begins sinking down, as though losing her courage and the assassin continues to move towards her.

"I have…gold," she stammers, throwing open her chest and pushing a hand in, rummaging about to try and find what she sought. "I can pay."

Her sword was gone too.

 _How?!_

She will have to improvise.

She did have a pearl necklace that the Pharaoh had thrown at her in a vulgar display of Egypt's wealth and she draws it out, letting it dangle in one hand.

It was not as long as she would like, but it would work.

The man looks at her with something akin to pity, "You do not have enough to buy your life." he growls and she glares,

"Nor do you."

She pushes herself up, surprising him and he leans back but she swings the necklace like a whip, wrapping it around his thick neck and she takes the two ends in hand and pulls them over each other.

He drops his sword in surprise, it drops down on her foot and she cries out but does not release her hold on the necklace, merely kicking the sword away. The gold chain on which the pearls were set was not sharp, but it was thick enough to fulfill its new task if she could hold on long enough.

The man reaches up with both hands trying to break her grip but his nails are short and he is too panicked to find the pressure points, she leans back so he cannot strangle her in turn.

She watches as his veins bulge, his mouth gaping as he struggles to breathe and his eyes are wide with disbelief and horror at his own impending death. His movements are slowing and he sinks to the floor, with her following him, leaning over him as he flops onto his back, jerking up and down a few times and then collapsing.

The necklace has cut into his skin but she does not release her hold yet, having seen this trick before, where a man only feigns death, she counts to one hundred before she releases her makeshift weapon.

It has cut into her own hands and she staggers to her bed, sinking down on it and looking to her injuries.

Blood and sweat mingled with death on her hands and dust from the stranger's legs on her tunic.

She calls for a slave and for a light, trying to catch her breath and wondering why none had heard the commotion.

She calls again before she wonders if perhaps the man had not worked alone, if there were other men in the house. She does hear a hiss and the strange slithering sound the asp made as it moved, she also hears footsteps and someone cursing, "Damn you, worthless beast!"

She scrambles for her would-be-killer's sword and throws herself into the atrium, holding the weapon out and the asp darts between her feet as its own threat nearly runs into her blade.

"Run," she orders, "That snake is protected by Egypt's gods and I am hungry for death."

The man is not a soldier like the last one had been, he resembles nothing but a sailor, and when he holds up his hands, she sees the mark of a galley slave.

And despite the darkness, she also sees the blood.

"It…bit…me," He gasps, "Over and over, without mercy."

Good.

The snake has finally endeared itself to her.

"Not enough if you yet live," she spits, pushing the sword forward until the tip pierces his clothes and his skin, causing him to stagger backwards.

"I should like to fix that."

"I was promised my freedom," he groans, weeping, "My freedom for your head."

He is not looking where he is going, the brand on his wrist means that he would have spent months if not years on a ship, chained by the ankles for hours on end rowing and rowing, always forward, never back.

So, he does not look behind himself now and falls into the atrium pool.

It is not deep, were he to stand it would not cover his waist.

Had he not been poisoned, were he not terrified, were he to take his eyes off her, he would live.

His gods did not watch over him that night.

Caroline watched him drown, his body befouling the water before she lets the sword drop with a clatter, sinking to her haunches and turning to look at the asp as it reared up beside her,

"Do you wish to fight me, too?" she asks, yet it only slithers off, hopefully to find Elijah.

Which she needs to do also.

First, she should probably dress.

With a grunt, she pushes herself up, her knees cracking and her blood continuing to sing. There's a commotion at the door and she turns as the praetorian guard enter, their boots loud against the otherwise still night, marching right past her, she watches over her shoulder as they move straight to the garden.

Well, one of them notices the dead man in the pool at least.

Moving quickly, Caroline darts into her bedroom and finds her cloak, wrapping it around her frame as more guards enter the house, this time bringing torches and Elijah with them.

"Are you well?" he asks, striding over and taking her hands, making her flinch as his fingers press against her cuts,

"Yes, yet I am not sure about your slaves." She answers, "I have not seen them."

He runs his hand over his mouth, "One ran to tell Niklaus and I of the dead man in the garden, I saw my brother safely home before returning with the guard."

Caroline smirks, "There is also a dead man in my room and another in the pool, one by my hand and the other by your asp's fangs."

He pales and snaps his fingers, summoning one of the guards, "We shall require an escort,"

He takes her arm, "Come, we shall see the Emperor."

Caroline digs her bare heels into the tiled floor, "Why?"

He looks down at her feet and notes the blood with concern, "They are aware that a man was killed here and wish to know you are alright."

She finds herself searching for an excuse, "I can send them a message, yet I need to tend to my injuries and rest."

He sighs and takes her face in his hands, "Caroline, when he or Niklaus hear you were attacked they will insist on seeing you with their own eyes regardless, better I take you now than be sent back to take you as soon as I set foot in his home."

She sniffs and parts her cloak so he can see what she's wearing, "I will dress first."

* * *

They barely entered the ostium before Elijah found himself beset by a young blonde who appeared on the verge of panic,

"Everyone thought I was asleep, yet I heard them talking!" Rebekah cried,

"They said a man came to _kill_ you!"

Well, it was like as not to be one theory.

He grins and kisses her forehead, "As you can see, he was not very good at his task."

His little sister sniffed pointedly, her eyes filling with tears and he wraps an arm about her waist,

"There now," he guides her back to her matron, "Go to bed and we shall talk in the morning."

She stomps her foot, "I am not a brat, I can stay and talk with you and Nik and Ansel,"

"She gets to stay!" she adds, pointing at Caroline who raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised to find herself as the marking post for maturity and wisdom.

Elijah resists the urge to roll his eyes, "Caroline was there, little sister, she can provide information and will have to explain what happened, whereas you, thank the gods, were not."

Rebekah continues to pout but her matron guides her back to her cubiculum, leaving Elijah free to take Caroline through to the Triclinium where the Emperor sat.

Elijah notes the men gathered on the couches around him, trusted men who resided near the palace and could be summoned quickly and quietly. Caroline falters on the threshold, confusion written across her features and he wonders if the fight hadn't harmed the balance of her humours.

Ansel stands and holds out his hands to her, "We are glad to see you well," he says as welcome, his jaw clenching when he sees her injured palms, "What happened?"

She shrugs, "I woke to find a man in my room, I did not have my weapons close at hand, only a necklace to strangle him with. I went in search of the slaves and found another assassin, only Elijah's asp had finished him before I had the chance."

"Did the men say anything?" one of the men asks, unwittingly interrupting Ansel, "Explain why they were there?"

Caroline stares at the man, a furrow in her brow, "When you aim to kill a person, you rarely converse with them beforehand."

Elijah turns his face away quickly, to hide his smile of amusement and Ansel looks to the men, "Thank-you for coming, we shall speak again in the morning."

"Elijah," he calls, "Can you tend to Caroline's wounds?"

Caroline draws her hands out of the Emperor's, "They are nothing," she assures him, "All I need to do is clean them and bandage them."

He nods, "Very well, my home is your home for the night. There is a couch in Rebekah's room."

Caroline salutes and strides through to the peristylium, and the two men listen to her bathing her hands in the piscina. A slave hurries past, carrying a basket filled with medicines and she begins dressing her injuries.

Ansel steps further back into the room, to the couches and motions for Elijah to join him.

"Normally you and I would converse in the garden," he begins, "However, I do not wish to provide our enemies with another opportunity tonight."

"If I was the intended target," he replies, putting his arms on the table, "Yet, they did not attack until Niklaus and I had left."

"Speaking of which," the Emperor said, pouring two cups of wine, "My son would have joined us were it not for the fact that he can barely stand."

Elijah to glance down at his hands, "I may have given him a rather heavy tonic."

"Good," he responds, "Had you not, he would have run straight back to your villa and possibly been caught by the assassins."

Elijah hums in agreement and drinks the wine, "If I wished to see Caroline dead, I would not act within the heart of our empire, I would have struck when she is off at war, when she could be attacked and have the blame laid on the opposing force."

"If I wished to see you dead, I would not send assassins," Ansel returned, "I would poison you and lay the blame on your snake."

"The Pharaoh would know that I had been poisoned," he disagrees, but Ansel only shakes his head,

"Killed in the heart of Rome, by the time she received word your body would have been burnt with no evidence and she would not be powerful enough to demand justice."

Elijah sighs and refills their cups, "We can guess that Niklaus was not the target this time, unless they misjudged how long he and I would be conversing, and we left before they had the chance to finish killing my slaves, and then they would not have awoken Caroline."

He leans back and rubs his eyes, "Again, it makes no sense to kill her now."

"Perhaps they are frightened?" Elijah offers, "Perhaps they have seen what you and I have both seen, how Niklaus cares for her, how you call her daughter, perhaps they remember how dearly you loved her father?"

Ansel's grip on his cup turns his knuckles white, "He conspired against _me_ , yet on our last meeting, I gave my word that I would never harm her. That was all I could promise him…"

Elijah remembered well the days he had taken Niklaus and kept him away from Ansel, who had rarely left his room following William Forbes execution. Clearly, he wished to allay his guilt by having Niklaus marry Caroline, but there were many who would not want the traitor's daughter to become Empress.

* * *

Dawn was barely breaking over Rome when Rebekah woke up and crawled from her bed into Caroline's, rousing her from sleep as she burrowed under the blankets until only her head remained uncovered.

"Did you _really_ kill a man last night?" she asks, looking up at her with big, curious eyes and Caroline yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She does not even think to lie, "I did not have a choice," she answers, "It was kill or be killed."

"Why did they want to kill you?" Rebekah asks, and she shrugs, "I do not know yet."

She hums and reaches over, taking strands of Caroline's hair and twisting them into tiny braids,

"After you fell asleep last night, I snuck out to listen to Elijah and Ansel talk," she confesses, glancing up to see if she is in trouble before continuing,

"Ansel wants the family to leave Rome for the summer, go to his villa by the sea which is very nice and he thinks it will be safer."

Considering the number of assassination attempts there had been in the space of a few days, Caroline thinks he might be right.

"That will be nice for you." She says, shifting slightly and letting the comfort of the bed lure her back into sleep, except Rebekah clearly was not done talking.

"I think he means for you to come with us," she muses, "He mentioned having some man called Alaric give you leave, is Alaric your commander?"

"Proconsul," she corrects and props herself up on an elbow, awake now, "And I do not wish to be separated from my legion."

Rebekah shrugs, picking up the talisman resting against Caroline's chest and playing with it,

"Perhaps they could come too? This is pretty."

She pouts when Caroline thanks her and climbs from the bed instead of gifting her the talisman. She had not bothered undressing last night and her tunic is rumpled and splattered with drops of blood, yet she does not hesitate to throw her cloak over her form and head to the door.

"Are you sneaking away?" Rebekah gasps, delightfully scandalized.

Yes.

"No," she lies, "I am merely going to visit my legion."

Without taking her leave of the Emperor, who would probably demand the praetorian guards escort her to the garrison.

"Can I come with you?" Rebekah asks, bounding from the bed, "I have never been to a garrison before!"

For good reason.

Caroline eyes the pretty girl as she reaches over for her chest, opening it and drawing out pretty silks and veils. "I am afraid it will be very boring," she tells her,

"Another time."

She hurries out before she can protest and when she is in the street, nearly breaks into a run, eager to get away before she is caught and carried back.

* * *

"Step-father!"

Ansel woke with a start as something heavy landed on his bed and jerks up into a sitting position.

He sees Rebekah sitting cross-legged in front of him, pouting and he tries to determine what the hour was, "Yes, dear one?" he asks, wondering how, in a palace filled with slaves and guards, she had managed to push her way into his room.

"Caroline ran away," she announces, her voice proud and smug to be revealing this secret,

"And would not take me with her."

 _What?!_

Unprotected on the streets of Rome, mere hours after men had been sent to kill her?

"Where did she go?" he demands, "Tell me now!"

Rebekah reels back, clearly surprised at his harsh tone, "To her legion." she answers, her eyes watering and he curses, climbing out of his bed and pressing a quick kiss to her hair,

"Thank-you for telling me."

"Can I have a silver talisman of Neptune?" she asks as he calls for the guard, and he is momentarily surprised by her request, "Of course, dear one."

* * *

The garrison is quiet this time of morning, the guards at their posts but otherwise, she gives her name at the entrance and slips into the courtyard, moving quietly past the slaves sweeping and preparing for the day.

Very few women enter the barracks, and Caroline hesitates at the door before deciding that at worst she'll be mistaken for a confused whore.

The soldiers are still sleeping as she makes her way down the two rows of beds, her eyes darting over the men until she comes across ones she recognizes.

Enzo was lying on his stomach, snoring lightly and she leans over carefully, gripping his shoulder and pressing her mouth to his ear,

"Wake up," she hissed, startling him, "We're under attack."

One eye opens with great reluctance and glares at her, "Several years now and that still is not funny."

She smirks, "Come, we need to talk."

His bed creaks and groans as he pushes himself up and she holds her breath, glancing around to see if they've woken anyone else.

One man rolls over in his sleep, but the rest remain still and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Enzo's hand ghosts along her elbow and she follows him from the dorm, down to the courtyard where he drinks deep from the water pump,

"I assume there is an emergency?" he grumbles, "Preferably an army amassing at the city gates?"

"Someone tried to kill me last night," she reports and he chokes, spitting water,

"Actually, more than one."

Enzo hums in thought, wiping spittle from his mouth, "I am going to wager that they failed."

She nods, "Yet I am very certain that they will try again, and so is the Emperor."

He nods, "Right, well, you should stay here," he gestured to the barracks, "It is not a villa on the Palatine Hill but we can watch over you here, keep you safe."

She sighs, sitting down on the ground and he follows,

"I may not have a choice of where I wish to be," she reveals, "The Emperor wishes for me to accompany him to his summer villa."

"With his son?" Enzo interrupts and she nods, "With Niklaus."

He reaches over and grips her hand, giving it a gentle shake so she looks up into his eyes, seeing no judgement but only affection,

"You know better than I do why that would be a bad decision."

She nods, "My reputation would be ruined, no matter what, I would be called a whore and lose the respect of our men."

"Our men would know a lie for what it is," he countered, "Yet our superiors? Other legions?"

"Could you not feign sickness?" he asks, "Claim that you have your monthly blood and cannot travel?"

Caroline rolls her eyes, "It has never stopped me before," she points out and he grimaces,

"Can you not say it is worse than usual?"

She shakes her head, "They would merely have me carried in a litter."

He falls silent for a moment, thinking, "We could poison you," he suggests eagerly, louder than intended, "Nothing fatal obviously, yet perhaps some young fruit?"

"I would not suggest that." A voice calls from behind them and they rise to their feet in unison, looking around and blanching when they see the Emperor standing before them.

"The amount of young fruit you have to consume before you grew ill could easily prove fatal."

Beside her, Enzo saluted yet Caroline could not move, keeping her eyes on the ground and flinching when the Emperor reached for her, his hands still for a moment before resuming their course, touching her chin and lifting it up to meet his eyes.

There is affection there, there always has been yet the coldness behind them, the cruelty that had brought him to the highest position in the Empire, in the world and kept him there for over two decades, that still remained, even now.

"I shall need protection when I travel," he tells her quietly, "Your legion shall accompany me."

She nods, "I shall be billeted with them."

His lips thin, clearly unhappy to be defied yet he cannot order her to sleep in his villa.

"Very well."

Enzo claps her on the shoulder as they watch the man leave, "We shall be near the sea at least," he grins, "You can go swimming."

* * *

A/N- Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N- Yes, I am alive.

* * *

The only time Caroline regretted serving in the army of the Roman Empire was when she and her battalion were travelling.

It did not matter how well trained the soldiers were, how fiercely they stood side-by-side in battle, because when it came to peacefully moving from one point to another, it was barely organized chaos.

And when they were escorting the _Emperor_ _himself_?

Caroline had barely finished informing her men that they'd be escorting the Imperial family to their summer villa when a proconsul she had never met had stormed up to her and shouted in her face that he would be in charge of organizing everything.

She'd merely stepped backwards and brought her fist to her chest, saluting him.

When he turned his back on her, she saw that his toga was clean to the point where he must travel everywhere by litter.

She assumes that he is the son of a senator, or a family member who was looking to catch the Emperor's eye and rise through the political ranks.

One who knew the theory of organising a battalion, perhaps the rules and the regulations but had no idea how quickly those could fall apart at the merest hint of an obstacle.

She feels almost sorry for him.

Until she hears that he'd ordered that no camp followers were to be allowed to travel with the battalion.

Camp followers; the wives, prostitutes and merchant people who fell in with the army, the ones who provided beyond the obvious services but also brought a bit of civilisation to the campsite.

Caroline tended to avoid the wives and prostitutes, because she needed to be seen as a soldier, not another woman, but she appreciated the importance they and the merchants had to the battalions.

They were often the ones with the best experience and understanding of how a battalion would fare in unfamiliar territory or in the change of seasons and whether the rations they'd been allocated would be enough. They carried with them supplies of wine and delicacies that the army would not provide and that the soldiers would gladly pay for.

And, in the event of battle, they were often unofficial scouts, spies, and physicians, without which many more soldiers would have lost their lives.

Even if the battalion was only travelling from Rome to Capri, without the camp followers, there would be more work for her and the proconsul keeping the men out of the nearest taverna or away from the wives of the senators and high-ranking families that would inevitably follow the Emperor on his holiday.

Still, she could not intercede on their behalf, not without looking weak.

Though, that was not to say that she did not have Enzo quietly tell the followers to prepare for travel regardless of the orders and ensure that they had a tradesman willing to guide them to Capri, for when they were inevitably called upon.

Her other issue was Niklaus' sister, Rebekah.

She had somehow convinced the slaves to carry her litter down to the barracks with the excuse that she wished to consult with her about who would be travelling with the Emperor, whether he would be in a litter or a chariot.

Simple questions that she could have asked any of the several of the consuls, proconsuls, or even the slaves packing the chests and received the correct answer.

Instead, Caroline had come back from Neptune's temple to find the Imperial daughter surrounded by soldiers, looking very satisfied as she flicked her golden tresses over her shoulder.

She had had to force her way through the crowd, all of whom had been deaf and blind to anyone not the Imperial daughter, whom she had had Enzo walk to Elijah's villa, under the instructions to quickly inform her older brother to keep a close eye on his innocent little sister.

Warning the sentries at the barrack gates to keep out the Lady Rebekah and any other high ranking young woman who had no cause to be there, Caroline returns to the Palatine, her mind filled with the tasks she would have to accomplish before her soldiers set out in the morning.

She had been spending her days with her men, training, planning, drinking in the evenings although none of them had returned to the tavernas since the incident with Niklaus.

One of many, she thinks to herself, irritation making her skin itchy.

Who would have thought her return to Rome would be so disastrous?

Such an abundance of inauspicious events that had been plaguing not only her, but those around her.

For years, her life outside of battles had been monotonous, every day the same in a manner that would have been boring to anyone whose family had not been executed for treason and wanted only a life of peace.

Now? She tallies her recent bouts of bad luck, starting with last night and working back to Alexandria, to the assassination attempt by the Pharaoh herself, one not of political gain but of petty jealousy and the misguided belief that she was a competitor for Elijah's heart.

Perhaps she had been ill-wished or even cursed?

She reaches for her talisman, pressing her thumb and index finger against the silver until they ache from the strain, reciting prayers for protection to Neptune in her mind.

Would that be enough however?

Not to doubt her god, but if her bad luck had begun in Egypt, should she not seek the aid of Egyptian magic?

She seeks out Elijah, finding him in his study in the midst of a sulk, as he had been every day since they had been informed that they were travelling to Capri.

Rome was the epicenter of knowledge for a man unable to live within the Library of Alexandria. The greatest minds lived within the city, and they would not be journeying with them to the Emperor's villa by the sea.

Nor could he take the entirety of his works and reading with him, instead, he would have to choose which of his texts he would be forced to part with for the summer.

It had put him- and consequently, the asp- in the foulest of moods.

Still, he had sworn himself her friend and she had need of his intellect right now.

Though she had not anticipated that he would be so brusque,

"You have not been cursed or ill-wished or any other foolish notion you have," he snaps,

"Do you think that my wife would have allowed you to leave Egypt's shores on my ship if you had been magicked with bad luck? Nor would her priestesses in Rome allow one who resided in my villa to be cursed, not if it were of risk to me."

"Perhaps this magic is beyond her detection?" Caroline suggests sourly, not out of doubt for the skills of the Pharaoh or priestesses of Isis in this regard, merely to argue with Elijah out of annoyance for his current animosity towards all things living,

"What is happening is not the work of magic or curses, it is the work of Rome, which for all its achievements, remains a swamp filled with power-hungry factions who would burn the world to ash so they could rule over the ruins. Ansel has personal enemies and ideological ones who do not hate him so much as they hate the rule of an Emperor and would see us return to the days when the Senate elected the leaders." 

He throws down the parchment he was perusing with a huff of irritation,

"Furthermore, have you considered that you are not the one at fault here? Many of the situations you attribute to your bad luck are those where the intended recipient of the ill fortune is my brother, you merely suffer the consequences of being in his vicinity."

Though his words are sensible, Caroline does not care for his tone, which is churlish and reprimanding, as if she is a child wasting his precious time.

"I thank you for your words of comfort," she says politely but with a cold tone to match his heated one, "I shall take my leave."

She bows her head sharply and turns on her heel, striding from the room and pretending that she does not hear when he calls her name.

Perhaps she is beginning to overstay her welcome, Enzo was entreating her to join her men in the barracks, where they could protect and watch over her.

The only reason she had yet to do so was her enjoyment of having a cubiculum to herself, though she had always had her own tent when travelling in the army- because of her sex and not her rank- thin material was not enough to keep the noise of the world at bay. She knew all too well which of her men snored and which slept poorly, she knew what it was to be awoken too early in the morning because one of her men could not sleep and tossed and turned loudly.

She was growing overused to the comfort of civilian life, if she were not careful, she would one day put down her sword and never pick it up again.

Yet, was there a point to moving to the barracks when her possessions were already packed for travel, they were leaving so soon, surely it would be more trouble than it was worth?

And did she wish to be so far from Niklaus? Even if she feared her feelings for him, even if she did not wish to see him, her heart still ached at the thought of being separated from him and she started at the sound of unfamiliar footsteps in Elijah's villa.

With a sigh, she drops onto her couch and runs her hands through her hair.

Perhaps Elijah was right to treat her like a fool, she certainly felt like one.

* * *

The day before they were due to leave, Caroline was awoken by Enzo who had come to fetch her with the warning that disaster was looming on the horizon, rising faster than the morning sun.

The proconsul who had declared himself in charge of organising her battalion, the one who was to oversee their movement and station in Capri had made an utter mess of everything. He had failed to order the correct supplies, failed to provide them with a place to be billeted and from what Enzo could determine, had not managed to perform a single task correctly.

Caroline had lost count of the number of times that she had sought out this proconsul only to have him refuse an audience with her, even refusing to answer her missives or even provide any reports on the status of preparations.

Now, she understood why at least.

She reaches the garrison at the same time as the news that, fearing repercussions for his foolishness, he had fled Rome.

Presumably heading north instead of south towards the sea.

This left her not only with the dissatisfaction of being unable to show this idiot her anger but also the burden of having to try and rectify his mistakes.

Which could not be done in a single day.

And as the day rapidly disappeared with her list of tasks only seeming to grow, suspicion began to weigh in her stomach, on her mind and coil up her spine.

"This cannot be coincidence or mere accident," she murmurs to Enzo, as she looks down at the map before her,

"If the tasks had only been half-completed or half-neglected I would have understood yet, absolutely nothing was achieved? How did this go unknown for so long?"

He shook his head, "Our men relied on you to see that we were ready, you were the only one with the authority to ask and with the proconsul ignoring you…"

"I assumed he ignored me because of his arrogance, because I was a woman, yet I trusted him to see the work done…clearly I was wrong to do so."

" _Seriously?!_ " she bursts out, spinning on her heel and pacing in frustration,

"I understand that the Emperor has enemies but in the _army_? To whom do we owe allegiance if not him? None of our generals have demanded our loyalty beyond what is to be expected, who is it that wants to endanger him and why?"

Enzo shrugged, "I know less the machinations of Rome than you, tell me what is to be done and I shall follow your orders."

She looks down at the parchment that has been marred with ink as they sought to solve their problems until it resembled a field ridden over repeatedly by the cavalry.

"Fetch the camp followers," she said decisively, "Every merchant, whore, wife and child who has ever walked in our shadow and put them to work, we shall not have enough supplies to last us a day without them. Beg, borrow and steal whatever we lack from other battalions, we are escorting the Emperor so whatever mission they need their supplies for is surely less important than ours. I am going to find Proconsul Alaric, he will oversee our battalion if I have to intercede with the Emperor to make him do so."

She ran her fingers through her hair, digging them into her scalp in frustration,

"I shall have to speak to the Emperor, let him know this has happened."

Enzo nodded, "What of our men? They believe we are departing tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

She moved to the doorway, looking up to see the sky turning violet as the day ended. Tomorrow was nipping at their heels like a hungry dog.

"We do not have a choice," she murmurs to herself, before turning back to him,

"If the emperor's enemies wish us to remain in Rome, then I see that we have no choice but to depart as we had planned, as we would have done if all had been well."

Enzo pales, his eyebrows shooting up as he considers her words,

"You cannot be serious," he remarks, to which she can only shrug.

"We have ridden without supplies before, we have ridden hungry and cold, with no idea where we would sleep the next night."

"Not with the imperial family amongst us we did not."

"We get them to Capri, we get them to safety," she argues, "Whoever his enemies are, they do not have the army with them or they would have used it to depose him already, clearly they move in the crowds, hoping to remain hidden, so when he and his family are in Capri with only men we know and trust? They shall be safe."

He releases a ragged exhale, "You ask me to achieve Herculean tasks and without even the mercy of a full day to do so."

She clasps him on the shoulder, "I do not ask anything of you that I would not do myself."

"You ask too much of yourself as well," he counters whilst offering her a gentle smile,

"If it is within my power as a man, I shall achieve it, for you and you alone."

* * *

To complicate matters further, the emperor had decided to host a dinner that evening, a raucous event filled with anyone who could claim kin or friendship to the family and every senator in Rome.

He was attempting to portray fearlessness to Rome and the world, that he was choosing to spend the summer by the sea for comfort and rest.

However, on the Palatine, the streets, in the temples, senate, marketplaces and tavernas of Rome, the consensus amongst all was that the emperor was not going south to enjoy the peace of the sea but to put distance between himself and his enemies who hunted members of his family like a lion stalking its prey.

Caroline returned to Elijah's villa only long enough to dress herself in a tunic and stolla before hurrying to his villa, storming right through the atrium and snatching up the first goblet she can find to slake her thirst and wash the dust of the streets from her mouth.

She drains it dry and leaves it on the ground as she hurries through to the triclinium, running her eyes over every person she encounters and dismissing them just as quickly until she recognises her quarry.

"I must speak with you," she calls as she approaches Proconsul Alaric, barely finishing her salute, "Immediately."

She does not make a habit of addressing him in such a manner unless they are on a battlefield, in the midst of fighting and he seemingly notes this, taking her by the elbow and marching her to the garden, by the fountain where they will not be overheard.

She relays the situation to him in almost one breath, feeling a sense of relief when she has finished speaking.

"You were right to act as you did," he tells her, "And I will gladly oversee your battalion. If there is no home for the soldiers, we shall make a camp on the open fields if we have to, or in the halls of the emperor's villa if it would keep him safe."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, "You have done your duty for the moment, I will speak to the Emperor now, you may take a moment to rest.

Rest.

Though she had known that she had been on her feet all day, working hard to try to overcome the obstacles facing her, she had not felt the consequences until the proconsul told her to rest.

Now, her legs felt weak, as if she had been swimming in the sea and her back felt as if she had been carrying a heavy weight for hours.

She sinks onto the rim of the fountain and closes her eyes, tilting her head back as a breeze managed to filter weakly through the garden. She could hear music and voices yet could ignore them freely until a familiar pair of footsteps approached her.

"This must be a trick of the gods," Niklaus intoned and she opened her eyes lazily to observe him as he stood above her,

"Caroline Forbes has not sat still long enough to be caught in conversation by the emperor or myself in days now," he continues,

"You must be an illusion or an oceanid wearing her face as a means to draw us into the fountain to drown."

She knows she should move away, a shred of anxiety twists in her stomach, doubting her own strength and resolve around him, yet it is soothed by the relief still coursing through her veins, the knowledge that by tomorrow evening, he and his family would be safe by the sea.

So, she allows herself this moment of foolishness to reach up and take his hand, smiling as she turns it over to kiss his palm,

"I will never let you drown," she promises him, her voice sweetly tender, "I swear on Neptune and any god that asks it of me that I always will do whatever it takes to see you safe."

She turns his hand over and kisses his finger where his ring would sit if he were emperor, as he would be one day with her as his most faithful ally.

She would serve him with utmost loyalty and wipe away the stain from her family name.

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading


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